Rule the Waves
by Athena's Helm
Summary: Percy's life has sucked since the war. Sure, he met his sister. But Annabeth died? Now, demigods have joined the military in opposition to a new threat, and Admiral Jackson is reunited with some long lost friends just in time to need to save the world
1. Chapter 1: Crash Landing

**Sixteen years later.**..

_Fourteen years ago, a few months after my 18__th__ birthday, Chiron announced that the gods had discovered a new titan plot. They were going to destroy western civilization the 'old fashioned' way. Conventional warfare. They were slowly infiltrating the government of the Russian Federation. So, Chiron decided that, as soon as we came of age, us demigods should become officers in the Military, so that we were ready when the Russians/titans attacked. I, of course, got in to the Naval Academy at Annapolis. I convinced my cousin Thalia to take a break from the hunters to join the Navy Air Forces. She agreed. _

_Then, Annabeth disappeared. And I mean disappeared. Gone. Dropped off the face of the earth. I searched the world for her, but could not find her anywhere. After a year of missing countless classes and tests, I gave up the search, figuring she must be dead. I was absolutely devastated. If Thalia hadn't been there to beat the crap out of me every time I started pitying myself, I probably would have become a manic depressive_

_Three months later, I found a girl named Claire. She was about a year younger than me, and extremely attractive. I flirted with her, but I absolutely sucked at that. But I guess she found my abject failure at it to be sort of cute, because she gladly went along when I asked her out. I was about to enter the restaurant with her, when my dad showed up and pulled us into an ally. Turns out, the girl I had asked out was my half-sister. She was a daughter of Poseidon. Awkward, I know. _

_I convinced her to spend a summer at camp half blood. Everything was going great. Then her mom died. She was not quite old enough to go to the Naval Academy and live on her own yet. So guess what? My awesome mom adopted her. So now she is my awesome sister, Claire Jackson. _

_After I graduated from the Academy, Thalia disappeared. At least she left a note, something about being chosen by Naval Intelligence. I was miserablye again. My sister was about the only friend I had left. You'd think the savior of Olympus would have more friends, but nooooo. So, I lived another nine, boring, painful years, with nothing better to do than excel at my job and rise quickly to the rank of Admiral. Now, I'm thirty-two, a US Navy Admiral, single, with no friends, and have NEVER had a girlfriend. Life sucks, I know._

I was in a chair on the bridge of my aircraft carrier, reading _The Line Upon a Wind_ (which was quite difficult due to my dyslexia), and wondering if this extraction mission could get any more boring.

That's right, I said _MY _aircraft carrier. Why? Because I am Admiral Perseus Jackson, USN.

Anyhow, my carrier, the _USS Athena_ was sitting in the middle of its task force, waiting for a fishing boat. That's right, a FISHING BOAT. I, the foremost admiral in the navy, aboard the _Athena_, the most powerful warship in the world, was waiting for a damn fishing boat to come our way. Why? Something to do with an operative from naval intelligence. We were here to extract the operative from Russia, where he/she had been for the last…long time, probably, considering that this operative was important enough to warrant a whole damn carrier task force to come halfway across the world.

I was off duty, but I enjoyed being on the command deck anyways. The view was great, and it kept me up to date on the goings on around the ship. The command deck was sleek and modern. In the center, there was a regal chair, flanked by colorful readouts, for the officer of the watch. There were wide, sloping windows on all sides, letting in the perfect amount of light; enough to read by without needing a lamp, but not too much as to create glare off the readouts and displays. About twelve officers were seated at stations under the windows, monitoring the status of the ship or doing other odd jobs.

The on-duty communications officer, Junior Lieutenant Matthews, turned around in his swivel chair to face to officer of the watch, my flag officer, Captain Jack Berkner.

His hand pressed to his earpiece, Matthews reported, "Hawkeye one reports incoming contact, dual prop aircraft, unidentified, bearing Green030 to flagship, coming our way." In English, that means our radar plane designated Hawkeye-One, an E-2D Hawkeye Airborne Early Warning and Control plane, detected an unidentified airplane bearing thirty degrees off the flagship's starboard bow. Make more sense? Probably not. I liked it better when the only military things I needed to know were sword, bow, armor, helmet, and 'there is a big effing monster behind you!'

Anyways, this little pronouncement piqued my interest, so I decided to stick around awhile longer. "Have Hawkeye-One keep them in sight," ordered my flag captain. "Anything on IFF?" he inquired.

"Nothing, sir. Nothing at all." That was _really _strange. Even civilian craft would be broadcasting an IFF (Identify Friend/Foe) Beacon.

Rising from my chair in the back of the bridge, I said, "that's odd."

A few of the officers jumped at the sound of my voice. Apparently, no one had noticed me sitting back there.

"Erm… Admiral on the bridge?" said Captain Berkner, giving me a nervous look. "How long have you been back there?"

"Oh, about ten minutes," I said. He looked at me nervously again. "Its fine, Jack," I told him. He let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, pretending to wipe nervous sweat of his brow.

"Drama queen," I muttered.

The Captain stood. "Want the chair, sir?" he said, motioning to the chair in the center. 'Want the chair' basically translates to 'do you want to take command.'

"Naw," I said. "There would be no point in having a flag captain if _I_ had to do all the work, ya know?" I smirked. "I'll just watch."

He rolled his eyes, and sat back down, giving Lieutenant Matthews a nod.

Mathews picked up the radio input, "civilian aircraft, this is the USS _Athena_. Identify yourself, over."

Static.

I frowned. People usually don't ignore aircraft carriers when they try to talk to you.

"Unidentified civilian aircraft, this is the United States Aircraft Carrier _Athena_. You are entering USS _Athena _airspace. Identify yourself immediately."

Static.

I strode over to the 'captain's chair,' closing the distance with a few long strides. "Get a pair of raptors in the air," I ordered to the on duty flight officer.

The officer, who happened to be the commander of my carrier's Air Wing, Commander Skylark, nodded to me, and picked up the phone at her station. "Flight deck, this is Skylark. Admiral wants a pair of twenty-twos in the air. We've got a non-responsive civilian aircraft incoming, and he wants some fighters up there. Hawkeye-One is in the air. Get the coordinates from him."

Commander Skylark nodded to me, and I snatched a curious glance down at the flight deck. There were dozens of little figures scrambling over an around a pair of F-22 Raptors, frantically prepping the planes for launch.

Captain Berkner gave me a funny look. "What happened to 'just watching,'" he asked.

I smiled, "well, it just got a bit more exciting." He began to rise out of the chair.

"No. Keep it. I'm going to leave as soon as we get all this figured out." I covered my ears as a quadruplet of powerful engines began to scream, and a pair of sleek black aircraft shot out into the sky, becoming mere dots among the clouds in mere seconds. I glanced at Lieutenant Mathews, "try it again."

He sighed, and picked up his radio again.

"Unidentified civilian aircraft, this is Lieutenant Matthews of the USS _ATHENA_," he said angrily, emphasizing the name of our world famous, powerful warship. "You are entering our airspace. Please respond immediately, or we will order our fighters to engage."

Static.

"Lieutenant McKenna," I said, turning towards my sensor operator, "what's the nearest ship?"

He checked his display, "USS _Poseidon._" And yes, all the ships in my task force are named after Greek gods.

Good. My sister's ship. She was really sexy, sleek, fast, powerful, and packed one hell of a punch. What? No! I was talking about the ship, not my sister! Geez…

And, yes, I just called a ship 'sexy.' Ya, I know. I'm absolutely hopeless.

Anyways, the USS _Poseidon_ was one of the new Zumwalt Class ships (AUTHOR'S NOTE: look that up on Wikipedia. They are actually pretty cool looking ships), and was more than capable of the task at hand. And my awesome sister is the best captain in the Navy. And that's not an opinion, it's a fact.

"Have the _Poseidon_ get a missile lock on them, and start opening missile ports. Look real threatening," I ordered.

The communications officer relayed the order. I could imagine my sister flashing her trademarked dangerous smile, and braking orders at her weapons crews. She is one tough cookie, I'll tell you that. Mess with her, and you end up in the hospital, best case. Worst case; the morgue.

A missile lock from the _Poseidon_ must have gotten the aircraft's attention. A vaguely familiar female voice crackled over the radio.

"_Athena_, this is USNI-017," said the voice. "Didn't want to draw the fleets attention to this, but _we_ are your contact."

"Bull crap," I said, mostly to myself, "our contact is a fishing boat."

Apparently, the communications officer still had the radio input on, because the voice crackled over the radio again a few seconds later, "uhhm, sorry. Blame the angry Russians with guns," I couldn't help but laugh at that, "had to, erm, 'borrow' this plane to get out of there quickly. My verification code is" a pause, "935-454."

I dug through my pockets, looking for the paper that had the code on it. Car key. House key. Room key. Locker key. Other locker key. Key to the car I sold a few years back. Key to my old college locker. Key to the gym in the town I lived in a few years ago. Key to my old HOUSE in that town. Scrap of paper. Ballpoint pen. Other pen. No, wait, that's riptide. By this point, Captain Berkner was giving me an amused look. Finally, I found the sheet with the code on it. I glanced at it. 935-454.

"Dangit," I murmured. I grabbed the radio piece and held it up to my mouth. "This is Admiral Jackson, USS _Athena_. Confirmation received and confirmed. Response code Delta-Epsilon-Six-Nine."

I handed the radio back to the communications officer, ignoring a vague, "wait, admiral who?" as I did so.

I looked out the window, and spotted the sizable civilian aircraft coming in closer to the carrier, flanked by a pair of black silhouettes, which I figured were the F-22s.

"Skylark," I inquired to my flight officer, "do you think that thing will be able to land on the carrier?"

She looked out the window, and shook her head, "no, sir."

"Crap," I said.

The voice of the plane's pilot crackled over the radio again, "_Athena_, this is USNI-017. Can we land?"

Skylark had said it was impossible, but we had to get the operative aboard ship. I looked between the approaching plane and the flight deck. It would definitely be a stretch.

I picked up the radio, "depends. Do you mind if your plane gets wrecked in the process?"

"Not really. It's not actually my plane," she said. "I…erm…procured it from a Russian hangar."

"Alright, you have clearance to land. Do your best not to go off the flight deck. Skid turn, nose drag, whatever. Don't worry about damage," I glanced down at the flight deck, "actually, I would prefer if you didn't crash in to the control tower. But it's fine if you damage the deck. I'm handing you over to flight control," I said, nodding to Commander Skylark, who continued staring at me incredulously as she picked up her headset to begin coordinating the flight crews.

As a matter of fact, everyone was staring at me incredulously. I ignored them, and grabbed the input to the loudspeaker. "General quarters, all hands, this is the Admiral. Clear the flight deck. I repeat, clear the flight deck. We have an emergency oversized landing incoming. Damage control teams strand ready. I want all of the ropes, cords, trips, and planks we have to slow planes on the flight deck deployed." I hung up the input.

Captain Berkner looked at me as if I had lost it, "sir, even if we could land a plane that big, the plane itself isn't equipped to land on a carrier."

"This is our contact, Captain. It's the whole reason we're even out here on the wrong side of the Pacific. It's our duty to get them aboard," I scolded. I looked out the window. The plane was about a hundred meters from the flight deck, and closing fast. I dashed out the bridge door, shouting, "Captain, you have the bridge."

Down a narrow stairway, out a door, and I was standing at the base of the tower, watching the dual-prop aircraft skid across my flight deck, with a sickening screech. Sparks flew, rubber and steel melted and fused. An engine on the plane caught on fire. Then the other engine. Not good.

I watched and preyed as the plane skidded to a halt, a mere three meters from the end of the flight deck. I breathed a sigh of relief, and dashed over to it, followed by a cloud of sailors and aviators in fire gear.

Most of the plane was on fire. You couldn't see many flames, but you could tell by the column of smoke billowing from the airframe. I grabbed a fire suppressant hose as the firefighters fought the blaze in vein. One thing you learn very quickly when living on a carrier is that a fire on the flight deck is the worst disaster imaginable. With tons of solid and liquid fuel lying around, it's not too hard to see the reason.

It looked rather hopeless. I could have used my son of Poseidon skills and just doused the flame with seawater, but that would have looked suspicious. The mist is thinner out at sea. Questions would be asked. Questions I tend to try avoiding.

Then, a ship cut in front of my carrier at high speed, dangerously close to crashing. The USS _Poseidon_.

I was staring at the ship, wondering what my sister thought she was doing, until it finished its pass, and a massive splashing wake caused by the destroyer's speed slammed into the flight deck, not only dousing the flames but also pushing the aircraft a few more meters from its precarious position near the edge.

A round of cheers erupted from the men on the flight deck, and I looked at the _Poseidon_, spotting an easily recognizable figure standing on the stern quarter, arms folded under her chest, "thanks sis!" I yelled, as my sister tossed me a lazy salute.

Men began to scrabble over the wrecked airframe, prying apart melted metal and taking crowbars to the doors. I slowly approached, and waited patiently. Finally, the doors were kicked open from the inside. Someone stood in the doorway, retracting a powerful leg from a front snap kick. It was a beautiful young woman, who looked to be about twenty-four, with long, pitch black hair and electric blue eyes. She wore dark blue jeans, and a black T-Shirt with a US Naval Air Forces Commander's insignia pinned sloppily to her right shoulder. She jumped down from the wrecked aircraft. She looked a little older than she had seemed when I last saw her, nine years ago. I guess her boss had aged her a bit so that she could stay in the navy without everyone wondering why she looked sixteen.

"Thalia Grace," I said, a massive grin spreading across my face. She looked up at me, and smiled wider than I ever thought would be possible for a human to smile.

"Kelp face!" she shouted, launching herself at me, nearly tacking me to the ground with a massive bear hug.

"Whoa, huntress!" I cautioned, "No hugging guys, remember!" I exclaimed, trying to regain my balance.

"I think I can make an exception for my favorite cousin." Wow, did Thalia really just give me a compliment. That happens, like, almost never.

I hugged her back, and then pulled away and held her at arm's length, smiling, "that's 'Admiral Kelp Face' to you, Commander Pinecone Head," I joked. I nodded in the direction of the plane she had just totaled. "Nice landing back there. Way to make an entrance. It was very _you_, if you know what I mean." Which was true. Somehow, Thalia always managed to pull of dramatic entrances like that. This, I must admit, was the apex, though.

"Admiral," she said with surprise, glancing at my uniform, "all responsible now, eh? Admiral Kelp Face. Hmm… that does have a certain ring to it," she said, punching me in the shoulder. I tried not to wince. I remembered the days when I had a perpetual bruise there because of the frequency of her punches.

"Well," I admitted, "I missed you, Thals." I looked away, thinking about if it was wise to really admit how bad it had been without her, my best and only friend after Annabeth's death, at my side. I elected upon just fessing up. "Ah, to hell with that. Life has been _completely _miserable since you dropped off the face of the earth."

"Oh, gods! Don't tell me you _still _haven't managed to find yourself a girlfriend," she said, pure disappointment seeping into my cousin's voice.

I smirked, and shook my head.

"Um, Thalia," came a beautiful voice from the doorway of the plane, "who the hell were you just hugging?"

I looked over my cousin's shoulder to see who it was. Suffice it to say, I almost died on the spot.

**Well, I suppose its not too much of a cliffie because its easy to guess who the person is...**


	2. Chapter 2: Happy Returns

**Chapter Two. Its long, but I'm on spring break. I've got a lot of time to write.**

Happy Returns

"_Um, Thalia," came a beautiful voice from the doorway of the plane, "who the hell were you just hugging?"_

_I looked over my cousin's shoulder to see who it was. Suffice it to say, I almost died on the spot._

In the doorway stood a woman, probably my age. She was tall and fit, with curly blond hair and a pair of familiar, piercing stormy grey eyes.

"A-…An…Annabeth?" I stammered in shock. She looked down at me.

Before I could say anything else, she cried "Seaweed Brain!", jumped down from the door of the wrecked aircraft, and dashed at me, crashing into me with a massive hug.

I wanted to get mad at her. I wanted to yell at her. After all, she had disappeared without a trace fourteen years ago, leaving me frantically searching the globe for her. Unfortunately, she looked very happy to see me. And it is _extremely_ difficult to get angry at a happy Annabeth.

"It's great to see you too, Annabeth," was all I could think to say. Then I realized I was still standing in plain sight on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier. So, I wrenched myself out of her grip.

"I think…" she said, choking back a happy tear, "…I think I owe you an explanation."

"Talk about understatement," I muttered.

She sighed, and began straightening out my blue camo-pattern uniform shirt, which she and Thalia had managed to knock completely askew with their…greetings. The new Digital Pattern uniforms had become the standard Working Uniforms since the end of 2010, replacing the old working blues.

"Admiral, huh?" Annabeth said. "How does a Seaweed Brain like you manage something like that? I thought those little things like _tactics _and _strategy_ were a bit beyond your mental reach."

"Maybe I've gotten smarter," I said, folding my arms indignantly.

"More like my mother took pity on you and your extreme stupidity," said a smirking Annabeth. Well, now she was making fun of me. Back to normal, in other words.

"You two lovebirds done?" said Thalia. Thalia was being an idiot. _Definitely _back to normal

I switched my glare to Thalia, "maybe joining the Hunters at such a young age stopped you from maturing mentally as well, huh?" She glared back at me.

At that point, Captain Berkner walked up, glancing amusedly between Thalia and I.

"I'm guessing y'all know each other?" he said.

"Yes," I said, without breaking off my glare.

Annabeth forced a cough.

"Oh, yes, sorry," I said, cutting off my glare. "Annabeth, Thalia, this is Captain Jack Berkner, my Flag Captain. Jack, this is Commander Thalia Grace, my cousin," I said, gesturing towards Thalia. "And this is my friend Annabeth Chase. "

"Actually, it's Captain Annabeth Chase," she said, pulling a US Navy rank insignia out of one of her pants pockets. The navy!? I shot her a questioning glance, which she ignored.

"Well, Captain Chase, Commander Grace," he said, shaking their hands in turn, "welcome aboard the _Athena_.

"Quite a ship you've got here," observed Thalia, glancing around the flight deck, where things were returning to normal in the aftermath of the crash.

"I like the name," Annabeth grinned. Of course she did.

"Thanks," replied Captain Berkner to the both of them, "but she's Jackson's baby," he added, jerking a thumb in my direction.

"Guilty as charged," I admitted, holding up my hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Well," said Berkner, glancing at his watch, "I'd hate to interrupt your reminiscing. And I've got to get back to the bridge. I s'pose I'll see y'all in the wardroom in a few hours."

"See ya, Jack," I said as he walked away.

"Seems like a nice guy," observed Annabeth.

"Sure is," I confirmed. "He's been my flag Captain for three years now. Hes a great sailor." I frowned, "the only thing I don't get is why he hasn't been promoted all these years. The man's ten years older than myself, he's one of the best captains in the fleet. Should've reached Admiral years ago."

"He seems happy enough where he is," said Thalia. I just grunted noncommittally in response.

Annabeth glanced back at the drenched aircraft carcass behind her. "What did you do to put out the blaze?"

I smiled, "that was Claire, actually. Cruised by in the _Poseidon_," I said, pointing to the Zumwalt-Class ship in the distance, "and the wake splashed up onto the deck."

"Smart move," Annabeth approvingly.

I smiled proudly, "I taught her that one, actually."

"Really?" asked Annabeth, her voice mockingly incredulous, "a Seaweed Brain like yourself came up with something like that?"

"Har-de-har-har," is said, rolling my eyes.

Annabeth changed the subject. "Who is this 'Claire.'"

"Claire?" I asked, "You don't know her?" Then I thought about it for a second. "I guess I met her after I finally gave up looking for you."

Annabeth raised an eyebrow, "and exactly how of your life did you waste trying to find me?"

"Like, a whole year," laughed Thalia. "He was totally dis-"

"Come on," I interrupted. "Let's head down to my quarters. No point in standing out here on the flight deck. Besides," I added, leaning in and whispering, "we need to discuss…ya know, half-blood business."

I led them towards a small elevator. There were already two men in it, both NCOs, whose name tags identified them as Petty Officers Davis and Sloan.

"Admiral, sir," they said, snapping to attention.

"At ease," said, to my surprise, Annabeth. Neither of them moved.

"Ah," I said, "this is Captain Chase. Suffice it to say, she outranks you." They both paled and went to ease immediately. "This," I said, motioning towards my cousin, "is Commander Grace. Why don't you two start spreading the word around the lower decks that we have two new officers aboard?"

"Will do sir," Davis said, both tossing me a salute as the elevator came to their level and they disembarked.

I turned to face Annabeth and Thalia. "We're gonna eventually need to find uniforms for the two of you."

We got off the elevator at the next level, and strode down a long, grey, door-lined hallway. "Visitors quarters are here and here," I said, pointing to two doors near the end of the hall. "And this is my quarters," I added, pointing to a doorway right at the end of the hallway. I punched in a key code, and the door unlocked.

"Welcome to my home," I sighed. "It's not much." Which was true. We were in the main room, which had two sofas and a small television with a Blu-Ray player. There was an adjoining room-my bedroom-and a small bathroom coming off of that.

"Looks cozy enough," said Annabeth, plopping down on one of the sofas along with Thalia. "So…"

I held up a finger in interruption. "Before we get to filling each other in, I need to open my orders."

"Your orders?" asked Thalia.

I nodded, pulling out a ring of 'important' keys. Nuclear armory key, nuclear generator key, self destruct key, aha! Security box key. "Now that the operative is here, I need to open my orders."

I walked over to a metal square in the wall, and stuck the key in the keyhole. A smooth turn, and is popped open, swinging aside to reveal another metal square with another keyhole. "Doh," I said, feeling like an idiot.

"Something wrong?" asked Annabeth.

"I need Captain Berkner's key as well." I picked up a phone on the wall, and dialed the bridge.

"This is the bridge," came the voice of Lieutenant Matthews.

"Jackson here. Give me Captain Berkner," I ordered.

I heard some indistinct mumbling, and Jack's voice came over the line.

"Admiral?"

"Need ya' down at my quarters, Jack. Time to open the orders."

"Be there in a momen', sir."

"He's on his way down," I said to Annabeth and Thalia, hanging up the phone, "It'll be interesting to see what Chiron has to say. He probably wrote the orders."

"Chiron?" asked Annabeth, raising an eyebrow.

"Erm…yea, he's General Brunner now. Chairman of the Joint Chiefs."

Annabeth's eyes widened, "'Joint Chiefs?' As in 'of Staff'"

"Yep. And don't ask me how he managed that. I don't know." I said truthfully.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come on in, Jack," I told the knocker, who I figured was Captain Berkner. He stepped in.

"Cap'n, Commander," he said, nodding respectfully to Annabeth and Thalia.

"Captain," responded Annabeth, nodding back.

"Sir," said Thalia, tossing the senior officer a salute.

"Got your key, Captain?" I asked him.

"Righ' here," he said, taking a sliver key out of his pocket. I gestured towards the metal lock box, its first layer already opened. He strode over and stuck the key in. A half-turn, and the box opened with a click, revealing a sealed envelope. He took it out and handed it to me gingerly.

"Thank you, Captain. You are dismissed."

He looked nervously at Annabeth and Thalia.

"I'm pretty sure they're both with the Intelligence Division," I said, glancing at the both of them. They gave me nod in confirmation. "so they're both privy to the contents."

Satisfied, my Flag Captain saluted, did an about face, and exited the way he had come in.

I reached over to a coffee table, and pulled a Swiss Army knife out of the drawer. It was one of those big ones.

Annabeth stifled a laugh.

"What?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"How many things does that knife have-like fifty or something?" she laughed.

"Sixty-four," I said matter-of-factly, as I choose the proper implement and slid it through the envelope's seal. I pulled out the letter.

_Admiral Perseus Jackson, Commander USPACOM,_

_By the opening receipt of these orders, I assume you know the identity of the Naval Intelligence Operative you were deployed to extract. That's why I said there would be a 'special surprise.'_

_I will trust your judgment call on this one, Admiral. The situation may call for communications silence or immediate action. If the information revealed by Captain Chase is urgent, I urge you to establish a satellite uplink with the Pentagon and deliver a full report. Remember that even though you are leading this task force, you are still Commander, __United States Pacific Command. If you elect upon immediate aggressive action, contact Pearl and tell them to send the _Firestorm_ and its task force to rendezvous. _

_The old _Los Angeles-_Class subs _Hartford, Alexandria, _and _Cheyenne _are all being recommissioned at San Diego. I am also rushing the USS _Maine _into the field. It is the only _Ohio-_Class sub left on this side of the states. Unless the situation is dire and contact with the Pentagon is rendered impossible, do NOT utilize its nuclear arsenal without my approval._

_General Brunner, CJCS_

I leaned forward and handed the letter to Annabeth and Thalia on the other couch. I was glad he was giving me more initiative on this one. Though I was sort of offended that he implied that I might forget I was still in command of the Pacific Fleet. The _Firestorm_ was the lead ship of the _Firestorm-_Class carriers, the class to which the _Athena_ belonged. At 1,200 feet and carrying a hundred and twenty assorted aircraft, it was the second most valuable asset in my arsenal. Ha! As if I'd ever forget about it.

The _Hartford, Alexandria, _and _Cheyenne_, were a trio of older Los Angeles-Class attack submarines, which by now had been all but replaced by the Seawolf _-_Class ships that made up most of my Sub fleet. Not too exciting. Though the release of the _Maine, _an Ohio-Class ballistic missile submarine, to my command proved that the Pentagon was getting nervous. Though the old _Ohio_'s had mostly been de-commissioned, a replacement class of ship was never built. A few, of the _Ohio's, _like the _Maine_, had been sitting on standby for years, just in case a situation came up. Releasing to me a boat full of two hundred eighty-eight nuclear warheads added first-strike capabilities to my arsenal. Still, I valued the air domination provided the _Athena _and _Firestorm _more.

Annabeth looked up from the letter, smirking. "I'm a 'special surprise?'" she asked.

Thalia looked a bit more concerned. "He trusts you with a ballistic missile sub? That's probably not the best idea."

"Oh shut up, Thals. It's not like I'm going to up and nuke someone."

"Riiiiight," she drew out, rolling her eyes.

"What's the _Firestorm_? I know it's probably a stupid question, but I haven't really been updated on the goings-on in the navy the whole ten years I was in Russia," said Annabeth.

"The lead ship of the Firestorm-Class Carriers. Twelve hundred feet, hundred twenty planes," I described. "Just like the _Athena _here," I added, patting the sides of my ship.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow.

"What, you didn't notice that this wasn't a _Nimitz_?" I asked.

"I thought it was a little bigger, but you had cleared the flight deck, and the only ship close enough to use for a sense of scale was that strange looking destroyer. The _Poseidon_, was it?" said Annabeth.

I nodded, "one of the new Zumwalt-Class ships"

"Finally got around to building those, did they?" observed Annabeth.

'Yup. We've built nine so far. And six of them are currently assigned to my Pacific Command," I said proudly. "And I've got command of six of the nine Justice-Class Cruisers they've built on the same hull lines."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Well, aren't you special," she said sarcastically.

I folded my arms indignantly. "Yes, I am special. Very special. Like, Commander of US Forces in the Pacific level special."

"Your just a Sea-" Annabeth began to retort.

"Uh, guys," Thalia interrupted. "We've got more important things to talk about."

"Right," I said quickly, "so, Annabeth. Your report?"

"Well," she sighed, "long story short, Russian President Mikchelvitch is the Titan Coeus. The military and the legislature is are thoroughly inundated with monsters and other titan-spawn, but not so much the navy. Since the mist is thinner at sea, it can't quite make the monsters look all the way human."

"That's good news," I said.

She nodded. "Mostly. But they seem to be prepping a few assault ships with all-monster crews."

"What about the possibility of war?"

"The Russian people aren't too keen on the idea," she said, "but I supposed the titans could launch an attack anyways if they wanted to."

"We've always known that," I observed.

"Yes, but now it is becoming more and more of a threat."

"Any chance of them using their nuclear arsenal?" I asked.

Annabeth shook her head, "doubtful. They know that if they did that, practically the whole world would turn against them. Coeus is the titan of intellect. He _is _smart enough to know that."

"Anything else you need to tell me?" I asked.

"Nope."

"So basically, you spent ten years in Russia just to come back and tell us who the titan orchestrating this, and say that nothing much is new," I said, not believing her.

"Well, I sort of weaseled my way into their bureaucracy. I've got a list of what I think is every titan and titan-spawn in the employ of the Russian government."

"And where is this list," I asked curiously. "Can I see it?"

She tapped her skull. "In here, Seaweed Brain. You really think I'd entrust something that important to a piece of paper."

"No, but I'm not too sure I'd entrust it to my memory, either," I murmured.

"That's because your brain is full of seaweed."

I decided not to argue with her. Why? Because no one can out-argue Annabeth.

I sighed. "Well," I said, standing up, "I'm gonna head up to the bridge. We've got to rejoin the _Ares_ and head back to Pearl. You two wait here, and help yourselves to anything from the ice box." I thought for a second. "I've also got someone I want you to meet." They both nodded, and I proceeded out the door and down the hall to the elevator

The metal door to the bridge opened smoothly with a light pull. The watch had not changed since the crash landing incident, so the bridge was full of the same people.

"Admiral on the bridge!" chanted an officer. Everyone came to attention.

"As you were," I said calmly. Captain Berkner sat back down in his chair and looked at me expectantly as I walked over to stand next to it.

"Matthews, get the _Ares_ on the horn. They need to rejoin the fleet. As soon as they are back, we make for Pearl."

"Yes, sir," he responded dutifully.

"That's all?" asked Captain Berkner.

"Actually, get me a line to the _Poseidon_," I ordered.

Lieutenant Matthews handed me a second radio input as he said into the primary one, "control, this is Matthews. Give me a satellite uplink to the _Ares_."

I flicked on my radio, "Admiral Jackson to USS _Poseidon_. Respond, over."

"Admiral, this is Commander Davis. Loud and clear," responded the voice I recognized as that of the first officer of the _Poseidon_.

"Is my sister on hand?" I asked.

"Oh, yea, right away," he said. "Captain Jackson!" I heard him say quietly, probably because he had taken the radio piece away from his mouth.

I heard and irritated, "what?" followed by, "It's the Admiral."

"Hey," came the voice of my sister, loud and strong over the radio connection.

"Hey, Claire," I said, "come on over to the _Athena_. I've got some people id like you to meet."

"Does this have anything to do with that plane that wrecked your flight deck earlier?" she asked suspiciously.

"Yup."

"Okay," she said cheerfully. "I'll prep a chopper." Figures. My sister wants to meet whoever had the gall to wreck my precious flight deck.

"See ya in a few." I said.

"Bye." Responded my sister. I heard a distant voice say, "Commander, you have the bridge," before the radio connection was cut.

I handed the radio back to Matthews, who had finally managed to make contact with the _Ares_. "Admiral wants you guys back here," he said as I handed him the device.

Commander Skylark looked over at Captain Berkner, who was still technically in command of the watch, "Captain, the _Poseidon_ is requesting permission to send a chopper over here."

The Captain looked up at me quizzically, and I nodded.

"Granted," he said.

"_Poseidon_, clearance is granted. Flight control will take over," said Skylark.

"You have the bridge, Captain," I said, reaching for the door.

"You never took it from me," he responded with a smirk as I exited.

A minute later I was standing on the flight deck with my hands over my ears as the rotors of the landing UH-1Y Venom utility helicopter slowly died down. The metal door slid open, and out jumped my sister. She's exactly my height, five-eleven, has exactly my hair color, and exactly my eye color. The only difference between the two of us is that I am a year older, her hair is _way_ longer, and, of course, she is not a guy.

She raised a hand in greeting, not even bothering to fix up the wrinkled semiformal khaki Navy Service Uniform she was wearing. She was attracting quite a few stares from nearby officers on the flight deck. It was hard to look good in one of the Navy Service Uniforms, but my sister pulled it off. She always wore it lazily, though; it was always wrinkled up, never completely tucked in, and never completely buttoned up. Her collar was always askew as well.

"Hey," I said as she walked toward me.

"Sup, Percy," Claire said.

"Come on, I've got some people I want you to see," I told her, turning around and leading her towards an elevator.

My sister looked me up and down. "You look more cheerful than I've seen you in..." she began, "actually, I don't think I've ever seen you this cheerful."

"How can you tell," I said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you've got this new spring in your step, your default facial expression seems to have turned from a vague frown to a slight hopeful smile, your voice doesn't sound as bored as usual…does this have anything to do with the people that just landed?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"Do I know these people?" she asked suspiciously.

"You know one of them," I told her.

As we rode the elevator and walked to my quarters, my sister asked, "How much longer is the fleet going to be sitting here, now that you've got your operative?"

I raised an eyebrow. "How did you know that was my operative?"

She shrugged. "I can't think of any other reason you'd risk scratching your precious flight deck."

"Well," I told her, "I've recalled the _Ares_. As soon as they get their butts back here, we're headed back to Pearl."

Claire sighed.

"What?" I asked her.

"I dunno. I was just sort of hoping something interesting might happen on this mission."

I smirked. "How's this for interesting," I said as I pushed open the door to my quarters.

I watched as my sister's eyes widened, matching the grin that spread across Thalia's face as she stood.

"Thals!" my sister cried, dashing across the room and giving her old friend a big hug. Taking a step back, she added, "You look older. Didn't get chucked from the hunters, did you?"

Thalia smiled. "Nope. Artemis let me age a bit, though. Having someone who looks like a sixteen year old in the navy presents obvious problems."

Claire nodded in agreement. "Well, it's great to see you again. We'll have to catch up soon," said my sister, "or, is that why you dragged me over here, Percy." I nodded.

"Great to see you too, Claire. It's been boring as hell in Russia," said Thalia.

"So YOU'RE the one that wrecked Percy's precious flight deck!" exclaimed my sister.

"Yup," said Thalia, smiling mischievously.

"Great job!" said my sister.

"Hey, that's not very nice," I told her.

"Percy told me that you're the one who stopped us from being cooked alive in that airframe. Nice job," complimented Thalia, the both of them completely ignoring my comment.

"No problem. But Percy deserves some credit there. He taught me that maneuver," my sister said. I smiled proudly.

My sister turned to face Annabeth, who was still sitting on the sofa, quietly observing the exchange over a mug of decaf. "Hello," my sister said politely.

Annabeth smiled, "hi, I'm-" she began, but my sister interrupted her.

"OH-MY-GODS!" my sister exclaimed.

"What?" asked Annabeth frowning a little.

"Blond hair, grey eyes! You must be Annabeth Chase!" my sister practically squealed.

"Umm…yea…that would be me…."

"THE Annabeth Chase?"

"Erm… depends on what you mean by 'the'" said Annabeth, raising an eyebrow.

"The one Percy always tells me about," said my sister.

"Percy talks about me?" asked Annabeth, looking at me suspiciously. Oh, no. My sister had better not-

"YES! He does! All the time! Listen to him, and one might get the impression that you're some sort of angelic goddess! You should hear the adjectives he uses! He's always talking about how beautiful and elegant and strong and powerful and-"

Uh oh. "Claire…" I warned nervously.

"-and awesome and smart and amazing you were," continued my sister.

"_Claire,_" I said, gritting my teeth angrily.

"You should _hear_ the stories he tells about you! Are they all true? All the things you've been through together? You know, he's been absolutely down these last fifteen or sixteen years. Nearly died of depression during-"

"CLAIRE" I said, interrupting her completely.

"Oh, sorry," she said sarcastically. "If you didn't want me to tell anyone all that, why did you tell me at all?"

"Because I thought she was dead," I said angrily.

"Oh, so now that she's no dead, none of it is true anymore?"

"No, it's just-ARG!" I said in frustration, Plopping down on the couch and taking an interest in my black working boots.

"Anyways," said my sister, shaking the hand of a very stunned looking Annabeth, "I'm Claire Jackson. Percy's half sister, Poseidon's side. His mom adopted me though, that's why I have the same last name. I supposed that's a story we'll get to eventually."

We all just sat in silence for a bit.

"So…" said Thalia, breaking the awkward silence. "How's it been in the fleet?"

"Well," Claire said, "after Percy graduated from the Naval Academy, with a 3.9 GPA I might add," Annabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise, "he…"my sister nudged me to pick up the story.

"Oh, yea, right," I said. "I got assigned to the USS _Farragut_, and almost immediately we were deployed to the Persian Gulf…"

Six hours of storytelling and laughing later, we were all sitting comfortably, sipping at glasses of beer, the awkwardness all but forgotten.

"And so then, this idiot here," said my sister, nudging me playfully, "orders his cruiser to get a missile lock on the plane carrying the Admiral!" We burst out laughing. She was talking about the time I had _almost_ shot down the plane of the Chief of Naval operations during my brief stint in command of the USS _Monterey_. The story wasn't actually that funny, but, hey, we'd all drunk a bottle or two of beer, a glass of wine...

"That reminds me of the time I almost shot my supervising intelligence director over in Moscow," related Annabeth, between laughs. "I thought he was trying to mug me! He really just needed the stupid tape recording!"

"Well," sighed my sister, looking sadly at her watch, "I've got to get back to my ship. I've got a duty shift starting in half an hour and I've got to get into my working uniform," she explained gesturing at the wrinkled up semiformal uniform she was wearing. "It was nice talking to you guys."

"Yea, it was nice to see you again," said Thalia. Maybe you can give Annabeth and I a tour of your ship tomorrow.

"That might work," said Claire.

"It was nice meeting you," said Annabeth.

"Yes, it was," Claire said, giving Annabeth a smile. "Good luck with Percy." Dang, she just HAD to bring that up again.

I was about to protest, but Claire was already out the door.

Thalia yawned. "Well, I want to get to sleep."

I nodded, "your quarters are the first on the left when you leave this room," I said, pointing out the door. She stood and strode slowly towards the door. "Oh, yea," I added. "You might want to find Commander Skylark when you wake up in the morning. She's the air wing commander, and I know how you hate to feel useless. She might have something for you to do."

Thalia nodded, "thanks, Percy. Goodnight, you two." And with that, she walked out the door.

I looked down at my feet, trying not to make eye contact with Annabeth.

"Is it true?" she asked.

"Is what true?" I said, reluctantly looking up to meet her…uh…well…beautiful grey eyes.

"Did you really say all those things your sister told me that you said," she asked, looking away.

"I…well…not in so many words…but….well…I suppose I did," I admitted.

"That's awfully sweet of you, Seaweed Brain," she said smiling. I kicked nervously at the floor. "You really missed me, didn't you?"

"Yea…" I said.

"I wish I could have told you I was alive and well. Could've saved you a whole year of searching-" she began. Then I blew up.

"But you COULD have! All it would have taken was one cell phone call! One text! One letter! One furtive note dropped at my doorstep!" I yelled.

"Look, Percy, I," she began.

"Oh, don't give me any of that 'I'm so sorry' stuff! Do you have any idea what you did to me! I was distraught! Miserable!" I ranted. Then I noticed that there was a single tear streaking down her cheek. Annabeth never cried. Maybe I was being too mean.

"I'm sorry, Percy, but you know how it is in the Naval Intelligence Service. Or any intelligence service for that matter. It wasn't allowed. I couldn't. They only let Thalia leave a note because she was going to become a pilot for the service, not an operative, I…I….I" she choked, I couldn't stand seeing her sad like this.

I got up, and sat next to her on the other sofa, putting an arm around her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Annabeth, I….I shouldn't have gotten mad," I told her. "It's great to have you back."

She looked up into my eyes, "you forgive me?"

I sighed, "yea, I do."

She sighed happily, and rested her head on my shoulder. I kissed the top of her head lightly. It was great to have my best friend back.

After a little since, she lifted her head from my shoulder, scooted to away to a slightly less awkward position, and asked "any other half bloods in the fleet?"

"Yea, actually," I said, surprised it hadn't been brought up before, "Will. Will Solace. He's out on the _Ares_."

Annabeth frowned, "I thought Will was going to join the Marines."

I nodded, "he did. The Ares is an assault ship. Will is the Colonel in command of the Marine Expeditionary Unit."

"You've got an Assault Ship in the fleet?" Annabeth asked. "I didn't notice any ships other than the _Athena_ that looked like a carrier."

"I detached the _Ares_from the fleet so that it could use its helicopters and 35s to scout the shore for probable departure points for your supposed fishing boats. We are actually waiting for them right now. We're gonna make for Pearl Harbor as soon as the regroup with the fleet, probably early tomorrow."

Annabeth looked at me funny.

"What?" I demanded.

"Nothing. It's just funny listening to you talk about command decisions. I can't quite get used to the idea that you're all responsible now," she said.

"All responsible _now_?" I asked. "What would did you call it when I had to save the world at age sixteen? That didn't count as responsible?"

"Well, that was more like 'oh crud I have to do something,'" she said truthfully. "Now this is real responsibility. Admiral Jackson, Commander of US Forces in the Pacific."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying you're proud of me?"

"Yes," Annabeth admitted, "I suppose I am."

I looked at her and smiled, "that means a lot to me, you know."

"I know," she said, returning the smile.

"Well," I said after a few moments, glancing at my watch. "We both ought to turn in for the night. The _Ares _should show up at oh-nine-thirty tomorrow, then we'll be underway"

Annabeth made for the door, "goodnight Wise Girl. Your quarters are the first on the right." I said, using her nickname, something I had not had the good fortune to do in sixteen years.

She turned to smile at me before leaving, "goodnight Seaweed Brain."

**Ta da! *bows* I promise some action in the next chapter...poor Will...**


	3. Chapter 3: General Quarters

**I was going to have him be woken up by the General Quarters call, but I figured that would be way too cliche. **

Rule the Waves Chapter 3

General Quarters

The next morning, I was woken up by a ringing noise. I glanced at my alarm clock; it was oh-nine-ten. I must have set it wrong the night before; the _Ares_ wasn't due in for another twenty minutes. So, I lazily leaned over and hit the snooze button. The ringing didn't stop.

Oh, yea. I know that noise. It's the phone. I got up and walked like a zombie out of the bedroom to where a plain black phone sat on a coffee table. "Admiral Jackson," I said sleepily.

"This is the bridge," came the voice of the on-duty communications officer. "We need you up here, now, sir."

"Is it the _Ares_?" I asked.

I heard the officer gulp. "In a manner of speaking, sir."

I sighed. "I'll be right there."

Grabbing my working uniform out of the closet, I slipped the blue and gray camo pants and shirt on. I pulled a pair of black boots onto my feet as I fiddled with the pin of my rank insignia. Eventually, I managed to stick it on the collar of my uniform. I grabbed the pot out of the coffee maker, pouring the last drops of cold liquid from the night before into a mug. It wasn't warm, but, hey. Caffeine is caffeine. Then I stumbled loudly out the door.

And there was Annabeth, standing, arms folded, blond hair in a ponytail, and looking quite good in a working uniform.

"You're up early," I mumbled.

"Yeah, well, you make a lot of noise. I heard you practically fall out of bed, and I heard you talking on the phone. These walls aren't exactly thick," she said, tapping a wall in demonstration, causing a resounding noise.

"Where'd you get the uniform?" I asked her as we walked to the service elevator.

"I snooped around the ship for extras before going to sleep last night," she told me as we stepped inside of it. "Just out of curiosity, what's going on?"

I shook my head. "I really don't know. Something to do with the _Ares_."

Annabeth looked at her watch and frowned. "I thought you said that they weren't due in unit oh-nine-thirty."

Nodding, I said, "that's why I'm concerned. The communications officer sounded nervous."

"I hope nothing happened to them," Annabeth said.

"I hope so too," I said as I politely motioned for her to exit the elevator first.

We walked through one of the hangar decks, where dozens of men were busying themselves over the planes and helicopters. We got various salutes, and respectful "sirs," as we passed by.

"This stairway will take us up to the island," I told Annabeth as we came upon a thin stairwell in the after quarter of the flight deck.

She preceded me up the concrete stairs. "Bridge is on the third level," I told her.

At the third level, we opened a metal door and stepped into a hallway. Now, instead of airmen and mechanics, we were greeted respectfully by various commissioned officers bustling from place to place.

I checked to make sure Annabeth was still following me, and then pushed open the door to the bridge.

"Admiral on the bridge," said a voice, and the bridge crew snapped to attention.

"As you were," I said. They returned to their seats. I was surprised to see Thalia's face among them; I guess she had convinced Commander Skylark to give her a duty shift.

I walked up to the officer of the watch, "I'll take the chair," I told Lieutenant Vance.

He stood, saluted, and walked out the bridge door. I sat in the chair. I looked up to find Annabeth standing next to me, looking awkward and unsure of what to do.

"Just stand there," I whispered. Then I turned to the officers. "Report," I barked.

"We got an SOS from the _Ares,_ sir," said Lieutenant Hatfield glumly. Oh crap. "They were attacked. Multiple torpedoes, sir." OH CRAP.

"How far out were they?" I asked.

"Half an hour at best," said Hatfield. That was not good. It meant the assailant was nearby.

Going into reaction mode, I stood up. "Action stations," I barked.

"General quarters, all hands, man your battle stations," Lieutenant Hatfield said into an intercom. A bell started ringing shrilly, and I knew that red strobe lights were coming on in rooms and hallways throughout the ship.

"Helm," I ordered to the on-duty helmsman, "make for the _Ares's_ last known position, full speed."

He nodded, and started pressing buttons. The ship lurched forwards, and I glanced out at the assembled task force. Most of the other ships had noticed, and were taking the cue to follow.

"Flight command," I said to Commander Grace, "scramble the ASW squadron. And get me my eyes in the sky ASAP."

"Flight control, this is command," Thalia said into her communicator, "get the Seahawks in the air. We need ASW units prepped. Admiral wants all the Hawkeyes up and looking as well."

I chanced a glance down at the flight deck. About a dozen MH-60R Seahawk helicopters were being prepped and loaded with Mk-54 air-launched torpedoes for anti-submarine duties.

"Lieutenant Hatfield, get me the fleet," I demanded. Most of the other ships had a Seahawk or two onboard.

"Sir," he said dutifully, handing me a radio and pressing a few buttons.

I flicked it on, "fleet, this is Admiral Jackson. The _Ares_ has been attacked, probably by hostile submarines, and we are moving to their last known location. Go to action stations. I want all choppers in the air and prepped for ASW duties." I thought for a second. "Eyes on the deep, everyone," I added. Satisfied, I handed the input back to Hatfield.

I strode calmly back to the chair and sat down. "You're certainly decisive," murmured a pensive looking Annabeth.

"Only in pressure situations," I muttered back.

Out of the blue, an explosion lit up the starboard hull of a ship about a thousand meters off our bow. Even at such a distance, I could hear the blast all the way from the flagship. I stood up again.

"What the _hell_ was that!" I demanded.

Lieutenant Hatfield pressed a hand to his earpiece. "The _Hermes _just got torpedoed. Indirect hit," he relayed, "minor hull damage. Taking on water, pumps are dealing."

Now I was pissed. I stood up again. "I want _all_ my electronic warfare birds in the air RIGHT NOW! I want this place covered in a veritable BLANKET of sonar! Do you understand me! That sub is _NOT_ getting away!"

Everyone looked at me in a freaked out way for a second, and then my sensor operator started trying to get the other ships to start firing off sono-buoys. Everyone returned to work, and the din of people shouting into their station's comm systems started up. Thalia was trying to coordinate the launch of my EA-18G Growler planes. Lieutenant Hatfield was trying to coordinate some help for the damaged _Hermes_. At that point, Captain Berkner dashed onto the bridge.

"Sorry I'm late, Admiral," he said. "What's happenin'?"

I turned to him, "the _Ares _is down. Submarine. I need you to get down to the control center and get our sonar teams coordinated. Keep me posted, Captain."

"Righ' away, sir," he said, doing an abrupt about face and leaving the bridge. The control center was a new addition aboard carriers. It was sort of a full warfare center, where dozens of officers doing everything from electronic warfare to sensor operation to flight coordination could gather information and send it to the senior officers on the bridge, from which command decisions were made and orders issued.

"Sonar is getting something, sir," reported my sensor operator, Lieutenant Haskell.

I turned to him. "What?" I demanded.

"It's definite, sir. Submarine bearing Red90," he reported.

I instinctively looked out off the port beam, though I knew I wouldn't be able to see the sub coming.

"Any Seahawks near its position?" I asked.

"No, sir," reported Haskell.

"Hatfield, get someone on it," I ordered. He nodded.

"Torpedoes in the water!" cried Haskell.

"Countermeasures!" I barked.

"Countermeasures away!" said my weapons officer.

"One hundred meters," reported Haskell. "Fifty meters. Torpedo is at thirty meters and closing fast, sir!"

I closed my eyes, and felt a tugging in my gut. I messed with the currents to make sure the torpedoes went for the countermeasures. Suddenly, two massive plumes of white water erupted a good twenty meters off the portside.

"Countermeasures successful! Torpedoes have detonated prematurely!" reported Haskell.

"Good," I said, "now where the hell are those Seahawks."

"Still too far out," reported Hartsfield.

"They're flooding their tubes again!" said Haskell.

"Damn it!" I said. "Hard to port! Prep another round of countermeasures!" The ship began to turn to the left. I turned to Annabeth and muttered, "any bright ideas, Captain?" She shook her head.

"Eight torpedoes in the water!" said Haskell.

"Launch counter-" I began.

"Wait, did you say _eight_?" interrupted Captain Chase. "That can't be right."

"They're not from the hostile sub, sirs," reported Haskell happily. "The target is launching countermeasures and going evasive."

I looked out the windows. I didn't see any ships or Seahawks nearby.

"Admiral, all eight torpedoes are from the same direction. The enemy countermeasures may stop them all," cautioned my weapons officer, Lieutenant Mallett.

"Do we have a firing angle?" I asked him, checking the progress of our turn.

"Yes, we do, sir," he confirmed.

"Prep the tubes!" I ordered. The _Firestorm-_Class carriers had been equipped with a pair of foreword modular torpedo tubes to add ASW capabilities.

"Weapons crews report torpedoes loaded," said Mallett.

"Acquire target. Flood one and two," I commanded.

"Ready," Mallett reported.

I waited a few seconds. The first of the torpedoes that the unknown ally sent at the enemy sub exploded, and a plume of white water flew into the air.

"Fire both!" I said.

"Torpedoes away!" Mallett confirmed.

Seven more plumes of white water flew in succession near the approaching sub. I decided not to help these torpedoes dodge the countermeasures; everyone expected them to be countered, and it may have looked suspicious if they didn't.

"All eight friendly torpedoes have hit countermeasures. They are trying to outmaneuver ours!" said Mallett.

Our torpedoes didn't need help. Cruising through the water at over thirty miles an hour, and capable of coming around for second and third passes at the target, no amount of maneuvering could evade a mark 48 torpedo.

Two plumes of water shot into the sky, flowed by a three hundred foot long wall of white, foaming water. The submarine had imploded.

"Two direct hits," confirmed Mallett.

"The target is down, sir," Lieutenant Haskell reported unnecessarily from the sensor station.

"Yea, yea, I think I figured that out," I said. "What I want to know is where those eight torpedoes came from."

"I'm picking up three submarines in combat formation, coming in from deep. _Seawolf-_Class, the lot of them" he ventured as an explanation.

I grinned widely as a trio of 350 foot black objects surfaced from the sea, sending small waves out in all directions. I walked right over to the communications station and snatched up the radio input.

"_Nike_, this is Jackson on the _Athena_. Nice of you to drop by, Mitch," I said.

The voice of Captain Mitch Bruce, my old buddy from college and leader of the submarine group attached to my task force, crackled over the radio link, "couldn't let you surface slackers have all the fun, could I now?"

I laughed, "s'pose not." I felt a tapping on my side. Looking down, I saw Lieutenant Hatfield gesturing urgently. "Listen, man. We'll talk later. I've got some stuff to deal with. _Athena _out." I turned to Hatfield, putting the radio input back up. "What?" I demanded.

"We're getting something on shortwave radio, sir," he said. "It's Colonel Solace."

"Will!" exclaimed Annabeth from nearby. "Is he alright?"

"Yea. Most of the crew and marines on the _Ares_ evacuated. But that's not what he wanted me to tell you," said Hatfield. "He says there were three subs, sir."

I raised an eyebrow, "three?"

Hatfield nodded.

Sighing, I said, "tell the _Nike _to get submerged again."

"On it," said Hatfield.

"Sir, Sonar is picking up another sub about three thousand meters abaft the fleet," reported Lieutenant Haskell from his sensor station. Looking up, Haskell added, "he's getting away!"

"Who is nearby?" I asked.

"I've got two Seahawks off the _Apollo_ on the horn. They're converging," said Thalia, who had been frantically coordinating the aerial search from her post.

"I don't think it'll be enough," put in Lieutenant Mallett, "they can always put up countermeasures against the helos and disappear deep."

"I have an idea," said Annabeth. Figures. She looked at me, "may I, Admiral?"

I nodded, "it's your show now, Captain."

She smirked, and whipped around, letting her blond ponytail fly. It was her defiant, 'I'm so going to outperform you' move.

"Reroute both Seahawks. I want one coming in from each side right to the beam," she ordered.

"Gotchya," said Thalia, mumbling something into her headset.

"Have the farthest one drop a mark54, and time it so that as soon as the torpedo closes within fifty meters, the other Seahawk has closed to minimum range and can launch one at point blank," Annabeth detailed. Ah, her and her plans.

"Both Seahawks are in position. The first torpedo is away!" reported Thalia.

"Sonar reports the torpedo has hit the water," confirmed Haskell. "Torpedo has acquired, and is heading for the submarine." A pause. "Submarine is deploying countermeasures and going evasive."

"Torpedo is a hundred meters from target. The second Seahawk is in position," reported Thalia. "Fifty meters; the second torpedo is away."

"Torpedo has it the water tracking!" exclaimed Haskell. "First torpedo has run up on countermeasures. The sub has noted the second, maneuvering…"

I caught a plume of water erupt in the distance out of the corner of my eye.

"That's a hit!" said Haskell.

"Commander Grace?" I asked. I could sense that the sub had been torn apart by the explosion, but it was standard procedure to check with the officer coordinating the attack.

She nodded. "The Seahawks are reporting a clean kill."

"Well, that leaves one more," I said. I turned to Annabeth. "Good job, Captain," I told her.

She nodded smugly.

"Aha!" said Haskell. "I've got the other one tracked from a sono-buoy. It's coming up from deep!"

"Where?" I demanded.

"Green thirty from the _Hermes_," he reported, gulping. "It's moving in for the kill."

"Relay the information to them," I ordered, concerned for the safety of the small frigate.

"Sir," Lieutenant Hatfield reported, "_Hermes_ reports they have it tracked and are turning to bring torpedoes to bear, but their torpedo guidance packages were knocked out in the first attack."

I scowled. Under these circumstances, there was only one thing I could do to ensure the survival of the hundred men and women on the _Hermes_. I shot a questioning glance at Annabeth. She raised an eyebrow, and then realized what I was asking her if I should do. She nodded solemnly.

"Er…Admiral?" said Hatfield. "_Hermes _wants instructions."

"Tell them to get their bow angled at the ship, and dumb fire a pair of torpedoes. All we can do is hope," I said. And even though I was going to assure that the torpedoes struck home, I added, "and tell Captain Bell that he should begin abandoning ship," so that suspicion was not aroused.

Lieutenant Hatfield nodded gravely and relayed my instructions.

"They've fired torpedoes, not pinging. As a result, enemy sub has not detected them," reported Hatfield.

"Good, good," I said, scrunching up my face in concentration and feeling a tugging in my gut as I nudged the torpedoes onto a better path. Then something I didn't expect happened.

I felt resistance.

Someone, or someones, on the sub was trying to push the torpedoes the other way.

I was not going to let that happen. I was the son of the Sea God! Who did these idiots think they were? Actually, that was a good question; who the hell was doing this?

I kept the torpedoes on track, but it was hard. I needed to be exact. They didn't. The tiniest nudge off course, and the torpedoes would sail by harmlessly.

Suddenly, I felt the strain lessen. Another controller of water had rushed to my aid. Someone who could only be my sister.

Still, the strain was difficult. I felt another mind come in opposition of us. So I gave up on one of the torpedoes, and concentrated with all my might on the other. Just ten more meters…

"That's a hit!" exclaimed Haskell in surprise.

I plopped myself down in the command chair. Thank the gods it was so comfy. I was absolutely exhausted. Annabeth shot me a questioning glance. _Later_, I mouthed. She nodded.

"Recall the Seahawks," I ordered, sighing.

"We've got incomings" said Thalia.

"What. The. Hell," I said in frustration.

She smirked at me, "they're ours, Kelp-er-Admiral. It's the air division off the _Ares_. I've got about two dozen sleepy chopper pilots coming our way, eager to drop off survivors."

I looked up, and spotted a cloud of helicopters heading towards my carrier. "This could get messy," I joked. "Clear the flight deck, give them clearance to land. Tell our Seahawks that they'll have to hold off for a few minutes."

"What are we going to do, ditch the _Ares's_ choppers and planes into the ocean?" asked Thalia reasonably, as an F-35 Lightning II from the _Ares_ streaked overhead. "We don't have enough room in our hangars for thirty more aircraft."

"See how many choppers the other ships in the fleet can take in," I told her. "I'm sure most of our Cruisers can jam in a third. The _Iris_ might be able to take on a few as well," I said, referring to the fleet tender. I could see the _Iris _off in the distance, tending to the damaged _Hermes_. Sighing, I added, "I'm sure we can jam more aboard as well. It will just be harder to affect launches with extra planes cluttering the hangar deck."

I rose from my chair and began to walk towards the door. "Helm, communications," I said, issuing some final orders, "as soon as the _Hermes_ is patched up, get the fleet together and make for Pearl. Captain Chase, you have the bridge."

I stifled a tired yawn as I walked out. I had a lot to sort out, and I needed to contact Chiron …erm… General Brunner. But first, I needed a power nap.

**Ta da! Now _I _need a power nap.**


	4. Chapter 4: Precarious Balance

**Chapter Four: Precarious Balance**

_I rose from my chair and began to walk towards the door. "Helm, communications," I said, issuing some final orders, "as soon as the _Hermes_ is patched up, get the fleet together and make for Pearl. Captain Chase, you have the bridge." _

_I stifled a tired yawn as I walked out. I had a lot to sort out, and I needed to contact Chiron …erm… General Brunner. But first, I needed a power nap._

As I walked down the hallway, I heard Annabeth say, "Commander Grace, you have the bridge." She caught up with me by the stairwell.

Annabeth took one look at my face, and said, "okay, what's wrong, Percy?"

Gods, she's so damn perceptive. Can she really still read my thoughts after all these years?

"Nothing," I lied as I walked down the stairs.

"Don't lie to me, Perseus."

Crap. She can still read my thoughts.

I pointed at some nearby airmen fussing over a newly arrived helicopter, "not here," I said.

"Oh," Annabeth responded understandingly. "That kind of problem."

"Yup," I said. Then I sighed. No power nap for me. I was going to have to explain _everything _to Annabeth.

Once we got to my quarters, I immediately plopped down on the sofa. I mean, like literally plopped. I was like some amorphous blob of seaweed.

"You look like an amorphous blob of seaweed," commented Annabeth. Okay, this was getting _really_ creepy. "So," she said, helping herself to a bottle of water from my ice box and sitting down on the other sofa, "why do you look so tired?"

"I used my powers. Twice. Made sure the torpedoes from that first sub hit our countermeasures, and made sure one of the torpedoes off the _Hermes_ hit the sub that was after it," I detailed. And that's all I said. Hopefully she would accept that as enough of an answer.

"That's not all," said Annabeth, looking like she was analyzing me as if I was some sort of mildly interesting bit of architecture. Oh, gods. Why did she have to be so good at reading me? "What else happened?"

I grumbled something vague like, "resistance."

Annabeth was about to protest my indistinct answer when there was a knock on the door. Happy for any opportunity to avoid saying more, I jumped to the door saying, "I'll get that."

And there was Thalia. I did a facepalm. Why? Because I knew that all she would do would be help Annabeth get the story out of me.

"Come on in," I sighed, heading back to the couch. When I looked back up, Thalia was already sitting on the other couch. "So who exactly did you give the bridge to?" I asked her, desperately trying to steer away from the subject of what had happened.

"Ah," explained Thalia. "I called Lieutenant Vance back up."

"So, Thalia," said Annabeth. Oh great, here we go. "I was just trying to get Percy here to tell me what happened back there."

"Yea, I noticed that you looked a bit too tired after that torpedo from the _Hermes_ hit its target," Thalia said, always happy to work against me.

"I met….resistance," I said, slightly embarrassed.

"From the submarine?" asked Annabeth.

I nodded. "It took all of my and my sister's strength to keep that one torpedo on track."

Annabeth took one look at my face and laughed. "Aww, is the ickle Pwince of the Sea embawassed and angwy that someone is challenging his pwecious domain?" she taunted.

"Yes," I said in all seriousness.

"Getting a little possessive, are we?" asked a frowning Annabeth.

"It's just disturbing, Annabeth. This is where, as an Admiral and a Son of Poseidon, I am _literally_ in my element. And if someone can come that close to getting away with challenging me, it can't possibly be a good sign."

Annabeth sighed, "it's no use arguing with you. Your ego is clouding your vision." Ouch, that stung. I was about to protest when she went on to say, "the point is, the sons of Oceanus are out and about. You have to be careful."

"That's the thing I don't get. The sons and daughters of titans are usually monsters," said Thalia.

I frowned, "but the elder gods are sons and daughters of titans."

"The elder gods have two titans as parents. I meant the son or daughter of a titan and a mortal," elaborated Thalia, explaining it slowly as if I was some sort of idiot.

"Okay, so the sons of Oceanus would be monsters. What's your point?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"The mist is too thin out at sea. The crews of the ships would notice," Thalia said.

Annabeth shook her head. "But it was a submarine."

"So?"

"We were _relatively_ close to the Russian coast."

"So?" Thalia and I said at the same time, not following her logic.

Annabeth sighed in frustration. "It _means_ that the submarine could have traveled that far without surfacing to recycle air. So the air in the submarine is air from the land that it was deployed from. That means that it has a normal amount of mist inside."

"Oh," I said. "So they can put monsters on their submarines now?"

Annabeth nodded.

"Great. Just great. I hope Oceanus hasn't been _too_ busy, or my sister and I are going to have a lot on our hands."

The phone rang. I reached over to the coffee table, and picked it up. "Jackson," I said tiredly.

"Admiral, this is the bridge. The _Hermes_ is ready to move, and the fleet is getting underway. Just thought I'd let you know," said Lieutenant Vance.

"Ya, okay," I said irately. "Next time I get a call from the bridge, we had better be coming up on Pearl. Jackson out." I put the phone back in its holder.

"What?" inquired Annabeth.

"We're getting underway," I told her.

"That's good to know, but I think she was really asking about why you are so cranky," elaborated Thalia.

"I just need sleep," I said, glancing at my watch. "But first, I'm off to the control center to get on the line with the Pentagon." I stood and walked out the door. Thalia and Annabeth followed me.

"Lunch?" I heard Annabeth say to Thalia as I walked down the hallway.

There was a pause, presumably someone checking their watch. "I think it's still early enough to have breakfast, actually."

"Percy, do you want to join us the cafeteria after you get off the horn with the Pentagon?" called Annabeth.

"I need to take a nap, so probably not," I said. "But, Thalia. You may want to ask around for Captain Valera."

"Bertha's here?" asked Thalia.

"She was the Captain of the _Ares_. Maybe we picked her up," I said.

"Will do!" said Thalia happily as I stepped onto a service elevator.

Bertha was one of our friends at the Naval Academy. I have a picture of the five of us on my dresser in my quarters. We were quite the unusual quintet, sitting there on a long park bench. The caption (written, of course, by Thalia) read;

_From left; Claire Jackson, attempting to comfort her older brother, who she has her arm around. Percy Jackson, quite pathetic and depressed. In the center is the amazing Thalia Grace, unsure of if the person on her left or right is more pathetic and disgusting. Next to her is Mitch Bruce, slobbering all over the face of his girlfriend, Bertha Valera_, _on the far right._

Ah, college. Those were the days… when I was totally depressed.

Truth be told, the Control Center is an amazing place. It is a large, rectangular room that, as long as I am using the _Athena_ as my flagship, is bustling with dozens of experienced officers. The place has a direct connection to the ship's equipment mast, and as such there are flashing lights and bright displays all over the place. On one wall, there is a huge interactive map-projection. It's like a giant war room. And it's only staffed when I am on board. Why? Because the people who staff it are _my_ command staff, so when I am commanding the theatre from, say, a naval base, they all go and staff a nearly identical room at the base. A convenient system, really. They started installing these on the _Firestorm -_Class carriers because theater commanders got in a habit of using the ships as flagships. I got into the habit too, obviously.

I nodded in recognition of various "sir"s and salutes from the officers as I meandered through the various brightly lit stations on my way to a small, black room in the rear corner of the place. I pushed open the tinted door.

"You are dismissed, Lieutenant," I said to the officer monitoring a small screen in the room.

He saluted and excused himself from the room. I walked to the center and sat in a large chair with a few buttons on its right arm rest. I hit the topmost button, and a black 52 inch flat screen TV came down from the ceiling attached to a mechanical arm. I hit another button. "Pentagon," I ordered the computer, hoping my voice was clear enough for the program to understand.

Sure enough, an image of a high-ranking officer appeared on the screen. There was a few second delay. "Admiral Jackson," said the man. "I suppose you want General Brunner?"

I nodded. The man disappeared off screen. A minute later, a familiar wheel chaired man rolled into view.

"Ah, Percy," he said happily. "Found Annabeth, have you?"

I nodded.

"Good, good," he told me. "Why do you look exhausted?"

"We were attacked. The _Ares_ has been sunk," I said simply.

Chiron paled. "Tell me about it."

"The _Ares_ was detached to scout the shore for possible departure points for the boat that the operative was supposed to arrive in," I explained. "Then Thalia ended up crash-landing a rather large airplane on my flight deck, dropping off herself and Annabeth. We recalled the _Ares_, but the next morning, before they regrouped with us, we got an SOS. They got torpedoed several times," I said, grimacing. "I formed the fleet up and headed for their position, but then the _Hermes_ got hit, taking some hull damage. Then we got in a frantic chase to hunt down three Russian submarines before they could do anymore damage."

"Got all three?" he asked.

I nodded in confirmation.

"And the crew of the _Ares_?" Chiron pried.

"Most of them got off fine. It's a good thing the _Ares_ was an assault ship. It's not every day you're lucky enough to happen to have a few dozen helicopters and landing craft handy when you get torpedoed."

The General grimaced, "if you can call anything related to getting torpedoed 'lucky'."

"Granted."

"And the _Hermes_?" pressed Brunner/Chiron.

"Ten wounded. One dead. The ship should be fine, just needs some minor hull patchwork and a new torpedo guidance system when we get back to Pearl."

Chiron nodded. "What about Will Solace? Did he make it out okay?"

"Yea. I think so," I said. "He warned us over shortwave about the three subs. I assume he is on one of the landing craft the fleet is picking up."

"Good."

I waited for Chiron to say something. Being ADHD, that only lasted a few seconds. "Okay, I need an explanation," I told Chiron.

"What?" he said.

"Why was my fleet attacked by _Russian_ submarines? Are we at war?" I inquired.

Chiron shook his head. "No, but I think we are getting close to the final straw with them here. War may well break out by the end of the month."

I grimaced. War. Crap. Well, at least the Russian Pacific Fleet was a good amount smaller than my fleet.

"I know what you're thinking," said Chiron, "but be careful. We have reason to believe that the Titans may have moles in the Chinese military as well."

I let out an exaggerated sigh. "What's next? They've got the rest of NATO on their side, too?"

Chiron chuckled sadly, "we'd better hope not."

I sighed again and sat back in the chair. "So, fleet assets?"

Chiron nodded. "The _Maine_ is getting underway as promised. DON'T do anything rash with those SLBMs," he cautioned.

"Don't worry," I said, rolling my eyes.

Chiron grinned and continued, "She's being escorted out of Diego by the _Cheyenne, Alexandria, _and _Hartford_."

"Good," I said. Wait, San Diego. Half my fleet is there, right? "Speaking of which, I want to relocate most of my fleet assets to Pearl Harbor. San Diego would be just too out of the way if we end up in a war,"

I saw Chiron reach off screen and return with some papers in his hands. He shuffled through them, skimming through the word. "Good idea. But keep the _Truman _there in reserve."

I nodded slowly. "I usually don't operate with a reserve, but I suppose if we get in a full scale war…"

"Don't operate with a reserve, do you?" teased Chiron. "Don't tell Annabeth, or she'll treat you to a nice long lecture on the importance of having a working reserve in combat situations."

I rolled my eyes. "Kill me now," I said. Then I turned serious again. "I suppose that would be okay."

"What, being lectured by Annabeth?" asked Chiron, raising an eyebrow.

I chuckled lightly. "I was talking about keeping the _Truman _in reserve. She can stay at San Diego for now, but I _do_ want the _Equinox _and _Atlantis_ up here at Pearl ASAP."

Now, you're probably wondering what all these ships I'm talking about are. I had six carriers in the Pacific; the massive Firestorm-class ships _Athena _and _Firestorm_ operating out of Pearl along with the slightly smaller Gerald R. Ford-Class carrier _Endeavor_. Two other Ford-Class ships, the _Equinox _and _Atlantis, _as well as the old Nimitz-Class carrier _Harry S. Truman, _were stationed at San Diego. Now, if this book were to travel back in time to, say, 2010, the only one of these ships that you would be able to find on Wikipedia would be the _Harry_ _S. Truman._

Chiron nodded to me. "I agree," he said. "Go ahead and call up Admiral Lawrence. He'll be more than happy to get out of that city."

I nodded back, grinning. It's not that San Diego is a bad city. In fact, it's almost perfect. Great weather, great people, great places. But it's just too perfect. Gets a bit creepy after awhile, actually.

"So," said Chiron, leaning back in his wheelchair. "Why are you _really_ so tired. You look like you haven't gotten any sleep in days."

I glanced around nervously, and strained my eyes at the TV screen to see if I could make out any human figures standing out of focus in the background.

"I'm alone," Chiron assured, understanding what I was doing.

"One of the submarines…it," I looked around again nervously, "…it…we think it had one or more sons of Oceanus aboard."

Chiron grimaced, "what makes you say that?"

"I was guiding a torpedo towards it, when I felt force trying to drive the weapon off course," I explained. "My sister helped out, and we were able to score the hit. But still…"

"Yes, this is disturbing," said Chiron, looking pensive. "I suppose that a submarine _could_ have a monster onboard. Subs can go for quite some time without recycling air, and-"

I cut him off, "I know. Annabeth explained it to me."

Chiron grinned mischievously. "Speaking of Annabeth, how are things going between the two of you?"

"Umm…fine?" I said.

Chiron grinned wider. "Ya know, Percy. It's been awhile since you had a girlfriend. Ever thought about finding a nice woman, settling down-"

"Don't you _dare_ start with that crap again, Chiron," I warned irately. For an entire year after the Titan War, Chiron, Grover, and a bunch of Aphrodite children had conspired to try to get Annabeth and me together. All it had done was make our friendship very…awkward.

Chiron held his hands up in defeat, "okay, okay. No need to get snappy." If I was younger, he probably would have given me an extra month of dishes or something. But after the war, Chiron started treating most of us old timers as responsible adults, rather than students or trainees.

" Sorry, I just need a nap," I told him, yawning for good measure.

"I understand. Controlling all that water still makes you tired, eh? I remember that one time when you accidentally created a river running strait through camp. You were out for days. The river is still here, ya know. It has some magic properties that we're still trying to figure out." Chiron grinned again. "You have to admit, she is rather good-looking."

"What, the River?" I said confusedly. Then I realized who he was talking about. "Chiron, I told you not to start with that again," I said through gritted teeth.

He sighed in frustration. "You're hopeless, you know that."

I nodded. "Yea. Pretty much."

"And don't blame me if you are single 'till your deathbed, my friend. I tried," said Chiron with a chuckle.

"Don't worry," I said, laughing too. "I'll find a way to blame my sister."

"She tried, too, remember?" reminded Chiron. "She set you up on some dates in college, if I remember correctly."

"She set me up on a _blind_ date. And remember how that ended up? Turned out to be some daughter of Aphrodite who was trying to seduce me or something like that."

Chiron laughed. "Yea, yea, now I remember. That was quite a farce. Could have gotten a bit messy, actually, if Thalia hadn't shown up and knocked some sense into you."

"Thank gods for her," I said, laughing at the silly memory of that evening. Over my shouted protests, Thalia had dragged me right out of the restaurant, took me right to my apartment, and tied me to a chair. Then she left to see Artemis, and came back with the antidote for the love magic that had been worked on me. Apparently Artemis has a lot of antidotes for that kind of thing. I guess that makes sense.

Chiron grew more serious. "You owe a lot to Thalia for helping you through those four years, you know."

"I think it was a pretty even deal," I joked. "She got to smack me a lot. Thalia enjoys doing that."

"I suppose do," said Chiron, chuckling slightly. "Ah, extended family. You want to hate them, but you can't live without 'em"

I grinned. "Sounds about right."

"Well," said Chiron with a sense of finality, straightening in his wheelchair and going back to 'General Brunner' capacity. "I've got a meeting at the White House in half an hour. The president is getting nervous, and the National Security Advisor is practically poaching me for information."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why? They don't know about the submarine incident yet, right? Did something else happen?"

"Yes. I probably should tell you about this, actually. Most of the Russian Atlantic Fleet departed for the Pacific about a week and a half ago. Everyone is getting nervous, and the Russians aren't even making an excuse," explained Chiron.

"Ah, well, that's good to know," I said. Then I saw Chiron glance at his watch. "Don't want to keep you busy if you've got somewhere to be," I offered,

"Indeed. It was nice talking to you. Say hello to Annabeth, Thalia, and Will for me."

I nodded vigorously.

"Pentagon out," said Chiron. The screen went black.

Nap time! Oh, wait. Not yet. Gotta contact the fleet at San Diego.

"Naval Base Coronado," I told the computer.

A few seconds later, the image of a man in a naval uniform standing in a command center flashed onto the screen.

"Admiral Jackson!" said the man, coming to attention.

"At ease, Captain," I told the man. "Fetch me Admiral Lawrence."

The officer disappeared off screen. About a minute later, Admiral Lawrence appeared.

"Admiral Jackson, sir!" he said, with his characteristic slight proper British accent. He tossed a salute.

"Admiral Lawrence," I said, nodding.

"So," he said. "What do you need?"

"Get yourself onto the _Equinox _or the _Atlantis_, Admiral, and make for Pearl Harbor," I told him.

Lawrence frowned. "Something tells me that this is not good."

I nodded. "The _Ares_ was sunk by Russian submarines. We destroyed all three of the assailants in return." Gosh, I was getting tired of explaining this. "The Pentagon thinks there might be a war soon, and the Russians are gathering their fleets in the Pacific. I want most of my fleet assets moved to Pearl for the time being."

"What do I take?" asked Lawrence.

"_Equinox_, _Atlantis_, for starters," I said. "Most of the surface warships and submarines, too."

"And the _Truman_?" he asked, a curious hint of nervousness in his voice

I shook my head. "No. Pentagon wants us to keep the _Truman_ in reserve at NB Coronado. Leave her there with some of the older ships."

Lawrence looked relieved. "Good, good. The _Truman _is nowhere near ready for sea."

I narrowed my eyes. "Well, have the dockyard crews take this as an opportunity to get it done, not procrastinate longer. Having reserves that can't go anywhere isn't very useful," I growled. This was one of those times when I wished I could muster up a glare as intimating as Annabeth's.

But, apparently my attempt was potent enough to send him into vigorous nods of agreement. "Uh…yes, sir. Of course," said Admiral Lawrence. I liked to have a relaxed atmosphere between the officers aboard my own ship, but when it came to fleet logistics and my command staff, it was all 'sirs' and salutes.

"Well, I suggest you get moving, Admiral," I told him. "I don't know how much time we have, so it would be better to have all our assets in position sooner rather than later."

He snapped to attention. "Yes sir."

I nodded. "That's all, Admiral. _Athena_ out." The screen went black. I hit a button on the arm of my chair, and the mechanical arm holding the flat screen viewer retraced to the ceiling.

Nap time.

I stood up and stretched, yawning pointedly. In a few strides, I had crossed the room and opened the door.

"All done?" asked the Lieutenant I had dismissed earlier.

"Yup," I said succinctly.

As I walked through one of the hangar decks on the way back to my quarters for a nap, a familiar face came up to me. It was Colonel Solace, standing in a tattered marine uniform, an M4 Carbine slung over his shoulder in the same manner he used to carry a bow.

"Will!" I exclaimed.

"What, thought after all those years, a silly torpedo would end my days?" he asked, grinning.

"Naw. It's just nice to see you, man. We knew you were alive, anyways. I was told that it was you who warned about the other two subs," I responded as he fell into step with me. I looked at him concernedly. "Did Captain Valera make it out okay?"

Will grimaced. "She's in the hospital wing."

"Aboard the _Athena_?" I asked.

He nodded.

I did an abrupt turn to make for the carrier's 72-bed hospital. Will followed suit.

"How many casualties?" I asked solemnly.

Will looked downcast. "Fifty-two dead. Forty-six wounded, including three in the ICU," he reported solemnly. It was saddening, but considering that an _America_ Class assault ship contained 2,746 sailors, officers, and marines, the _Ares_ got off pretty easy.

"All the wounded have been transferred to the hospital here?" I said, just to make sure. With the loss of the assault ship, the _Athena_ now sported the best medical facilities in the task force.

Will nodded. "Listen," he said, "we can chat later. We managed to get a lot of the expensive gear off the _Ares_, and I need to get it organized."

I was going to point out that any officer from the _Athena_ would be more than happy to do it, but I realized by his downcast face that he was doing it to keep his mind off the traumatic events of the morning.

"Alright," I said, clambering on to a service elevator. "If you need anything, call the bridge. They'll know how to reach me." He nodded thankfully and walked away as the elevator slipped down.

I was surprised to run into Annabeth as I exited the elevator.

"Hey Percy. Where're you going?"

"Hospital wing," I said miserably.

"Oh," she said, scrutinizing my expression. "I suppose I'll come with."

The white double doors to the hospital wing were wide open.

The moment I walked in, a man in a white lab coat called, "Admiral!" It was Doctor Broyles, our Chief Medical Officer. "I assume you're here to see Captain Valera?"

I nodded gravely.

The Doc scanned his clipboard. "Right this way," he said, walking off and motioning for me to follow. I looked over my shoulder to see that Annabeth was still following me, and headed off.

I weaved my way through the occupied medical beds, occasionally stopping to say hello to someone. Most of the people there didn't look too bad; some minor burns on an arm, dislocated joints, gashes, cuts, bruises. Having fought in a sword-and-bow war for several years, I had certainly seen much more gruesome injuries, and even sustained a few myself. There were a plenty of people who were worse off. Shrapnel wounds can be painful, and there were plenty of those to go around. I saw a few people who had entire limbs burned to a crisp, viscous blood flowing out of cracks in their baked skin. It was pretty painful to look at. Medical corpsmen were running around with packages of bandages and antibiotics, doing their best to handle the crowd of injured people.

Most of the actual doctors and surgeons were helping people along the rear wall. There were a few unconscious marines with bandaged head wounds. There was a drugged man on an ICU bed, hooked up to countless machines, with a few doctors working on digging tiny bits of shrapnel out of his maimed torso. In the corner, I saw a man with a tear rolling down his cheek, and I vaguely heard the doctor standing over him that he would never again have use of his legs. There was a blond woman in a tattered Lieutenant's uniform, pale from blood loss, with doctors working to extract tiny bits of shrapnel from a terrible gash in her shoulder. I couldn't see her face, so it reminded me painfully of Annabeth, with the knife wound in her shoulder, all those years ago.

Finally we came an unmistakable black-haired woman; Captain Valera. She didn't seem to have any injuries, but was ghastly pale and shivering like crazy, despite the pile of blankets atop her. Any good sailor knew what the problem was; hypothermia.

It was a sad thing to see. I really only had three 'friends' in the fleet, and Captain Valera was one of them. She and Mitch were my only buddies at the academy other than Thalia.

"Jumped right off the ship," said Broyles, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Rescued a marine who had fallen overboard, but nearly killed herself in the process."

I nodded, and sat down on the end of Captain Valera's hospital bed. "Hey, Bertha."

She cracked one eye open. "Jackson," she said simply.

"How do you feel?" I asked her.

"I've felt better," she said. "Then again, I've also felt worse." I gave her a mildly suspicious look. She laughed lightly. "Don't worry. I look worse than I feel."

I raised an eyebrow. "How would you know how you look?" She just rolled her eyes.

"What?" I asked.

Annabeth tapped my shoulder, and pointed up. "Mirror hanging from the ceiling, Seaweed Brain."

Captain Bertha Valera let out a laugh. "Seaweed Brain. That's an interesting one. Who's the lady friend?" she said, nodding at Annabeth.

"This is Captain Chase," I told her. "Annabeth, this is Captain Valera."

Recognition flashed across Bertha's face. "Annabeth Chase. As in _the_ Annabeth Chase?" Oh great, here we go again.

"The?" said Annabeth questioningly.

She nodded. "He would never tell Bruce and I what you _did_ to earn his undying loyalty, but he spent a whole year scouring the globe for you. Became quite a mess after that."

Annabeth looked at her feet guiltily.

Bertha turned to me. "Was she the contact?"

"Yeah. And you won't believe who her pilot was!" I said.

"No, she certainly won't," came a voice from behind me. I turned. Thalia was picking her way through the hospital, walking towards us.

"Thalia!" shrieked Bertha happily.

"Hey girl," greeted Thalia. "What the hell did you do to yourself?"

"Jumped in the Ocean?" suggested Bertha.

Thalia did a facepalm. "You're almost as stupid as Percy," she said jokingly.

Bertha just shrugged. "So, how've ya been? I haven't seen you since we graduated!"

Thalia nodded. "Got recruited to fly missions for the Naval Intelligence Service."

"Cool," said Bertha, regarding her friend. "You look strangely…"

"Young?" suggested Thalia. "I get that a lot." Mitch and Bertha were always confused about why Thalia looked so much younger than her age. Of course, we couldn't tell them that she was a Hunter.

Before the reminiscing could continue, a doctor came trundling over. "Okay, that's quite enough excitement for now," he said. "The good captain needs some rest."

I nodded. "See ya later, Bertha," I said Thalia.

"Yeah, see you guys later," responded Captain Valera, giving a weak wave. "Oh, and Annabeth," she added, "I want to hear some nice, embarrassing stories about what this one was like before college," she said, jerking a thumb at me.

Annabeth laughed, "believe me, there are plenty."

I blushed furiously. "Alright, let's go, people," I said, leading the way out of the hospital.

I trudged back to my quarters, Thalia and Annabeth in tow, feeling quite tired and downcast. The grey walls of the ship didn't help my mood much.

"Toddles," said Thalia once we passed her quarters. She opened the door and stepped inside.

Before I could go into mine Annabeth grabbed my shoulder and whipped me around to face her. I was about to pout, but she had that concerned look in her sparkling grey eyes.

"Why are you so downcast, Percy," she said. Again with the mind reading thing! Arg!

"What makes you say that," I said, playing clueless.

"If you were feeling alright, you would have made fun of Thalia for saying Toddles." I was about to protest and say that it was because I was tired, but she cut me off, saying, "and you've never let something like sleepiness get in the way of you making fun of Thalia."

I kicked nervously at the ground. It was scary how well she could read me, even after all these years. "Didn't you see all that in the hospital!" I demanded.

"The injured people?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"So what?" Annabeth said. "You've seen worse."

I shook my head sadly. "Fifty two dead, forty six wounded. And _my_ goddamn fault. I should never have detached the _Ares_. What a stupid idea!"

She tightened her grip on my shoulder to the point of painful, and looked me in the eyes. "It's not your fault," she said. "There was no war on, so you had no reason not to. And now that there is a war, you have to accept your decisions and their consequences. You can't dwell on them, Percy. In war, decisions are made and lives are lost. That's the reality. You can't afford to run through 'what ifs.'"

I looked down at my feet ashamedly.

She sighed. "Look, Percy. I know your fatal flaw. I know it's never been easy for you. But you have to just move on. Looking back on your decisions with the advantage of hindsight is something that you should never do. It just makes you paranoid about future decisions."

I grinned slightly. "You sound like an instructor at the Academy," I told her.

"Really, Percy. This is serious," Annabeth said darkly.

I sighed.

"You know," she said quietly, "you inadvertently taught me that little lesson during the titan war. When you were talking to me after I had said that it was my fault that Luke had turned evil. My fault for not killing him when he visited me in Frisco."

"Oh," I said, a bit surprised.

She released some of the pressure on my shoulder. "Promise me you'll stop thinking about it," she said.

I nodded. She was right, of course.

A smile crept onto her face. "Did that really work? Are you really feeling better about yourself?"

"Uhm..yeah," I said.

Annabeth smiled widely. "I've always wanted to do something like that for you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

She nodded. "During the titan war, it was always you comforting me. You telling me that it wasn't my fault. That everything would be okay. That I didn't need to worry," she said. "And you were good at it, too. I've always felt like I've owed you for that."

"You don't owe me anything," I told her.

Annabeth shook her head. "Of course I do." She looked pensive for a moment. "I'll never be as good at that kind of thing as you are. Whenever I try to make someone feel better, I feel like I'm explaining a logic problem. With you, it was always emotion, hope. In the Labyrinth, you could make me feel like everything could be okay even if logic and reason were screaming at me that it wouldn't. At the final battle, you could make me feel like there was hope even if the situation was obviously hopeless. I've wanted to thank you properly for that for a long time. You got me through that war, Percy." Now _this_ was an emotional side of Annabeth that you didn't see very often.

I smiled. "I couldn't have done it without you either, standing by me and kicking monster butt. You are definitely the bravest, toughest person I have ever met. Need I remind you how many times you saved my sorry rear?" I asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

Annabeth laughed a little."I'm surprised you survived while I was trapped on that stupid mountain."

"Hey, I had no intention of getting myself killed until you were out of that place," I said, subconsciously reaching up and touching my lock of grey hair at the mention of that incident. "Yo! Speaking of which, I just thought up a really witty retort!"

"To what?" asked Annabeth.

"When your mom warned me about my fatal flaw," I said.

"That was eighteen years ago!" Annabeth said. "Gods, you're slow."

"Do you want to hear it or not?"

"Sure."

"I should of said, 'okay, so next time your daughter is trapped, I won't go to rescue her.' That would have stumped Athena for sure!" I said happily

Annabeth shook her head. "My mom would have seen right through that lie."

"What makes you say it's a lie?" I asked, raising an eyebrow,

Annabeth just laughed. "Because you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from coming to save me even if I told you not to," she said.

I shook my head. "I would satisfy my drive to be loyal by saving another one of my friends, like Grover or Nico or Thalia or-"

She rolled her eyes and cut me off with a quick kiss on the cheek. "Save the rant for someone who believes you, Seaweed Brain."

I looked her in the eye, and realized that she was absolutely right. If I ever lost her again, not even my sister's kind words and Thalia's frequent punches could pull me out of depression.

So I enfolded her in a hug, and mumbled, "don't you ever disappear again."

She hugged me back said, "I'll try. No promises though."

I pulled away and glared at her accusingly. But my expression softened when I realized she had a goofy grin on her face. She was just messing with me.

At that point, Thalia burst out of her quarters. "Gods, you guys sound so stupid. A pair of lovesick fools!"

"Thalia, she's my best friend. I'm allowed to miss her without being labeled as lovesick," I explained for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Riiiiggghhhht," drew out Thalia. "Just keep telling yourself that, Jackson," she said, looking pointedly at my shoulder, where Annabeth's hand was still firmly placed.

We both blushed and Annabeth quickly withdrew her hand.

"Ugh, you guys are thirty-two years old now! Stop acting sixteen!"

"Oh, you're one to talk, o huntress of immortal youth," I retorted. "And besides, what do you care? You're a huntress. You hate love."

Thalia grinned. "So you admit its love."

"I… no… arg!" I said in frustration.

Thalia shook her head. "Besides, Artemis never minded the two of you. I think she actually thinks quite highly of you, Percy. She randomly said something about 'the kind of men that self-respecting women deserve only show up once every few centuries' during a conversation we were having about you," Thalia said. "I think she was talking about you. Of course, it doesn't make very much sense. You are a total kelp-faced looser."

"Oh, stuff it, Thalia," I said.

She stormed back to her quarters.

"Awkward…" Annabeth commented.

I nodded. "Thalia's pretty good at that."

There was a deathly silence. Nico would've been proud.

"So," said Annabeth, breaking the silence. "What did Chiron…uh…I mean what did General Brunner say."

"We can call him Chiron. No one else has quarters on this hallway," I assured her. "He basically said that war could break out any day now. So I called most of my fleet from San Diego to Pearl."

"Wait," said Annabeth. "I thought this was your fleet."

I shook my head and laughed slightly. "No. I'm the Commander of US Forces in the Pacific, if you'll remember from Chiron's letter. I've got the _Athena_, Firestorm and _Endeavor_ operating out of Pearl Harbor, and the _Atlantis_, _Equinox, _and _Truman_ operating from San Diego. I've called the _Atlantis _and _Equinox_ over with their fleets. The _Truman_ is staying behind."

"A reserve, huh?" said Annabeth. "I hadn't pinned you as the reserve type."

"I'm not. Chiron talked me into it," I said. Her mouth began to open, so I held up a finger to prevent her from going off on a tangent. "And spare me the strategy lecture."

"I wasn't going to say anything," she huffed.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course you weren't," I said sarcastically.

She punched me in the shoulder. Hard.

"Ow!" I exclaimed. "I still have a bruise there from Thalia."

"Wimp," she muttered. "You're invincible."

I shook my head. "Hades granted me the lifting of that particular curse after I saved Nico from a particularly angry group of Telchines and dracaenae."

"That was uncharacteristically nice of him," commented Annabeth.

I grinned. "I think he did it because he disliked the fact that it was so difficult to kill me. He wants me dead and gone ASAP."

Annabeth grinned too. "That makes more sense."

I nodded and failed to stifle a dramatic yawn. Annabeth laughed at me. "Someone needs a nap," she said.

"Tell me about it. Come wake me up if I don't get out of there in time for dinner," I said.

"Sure thing," she said, doing a perfectly executed about face and stalking off to Thalia's quarters mumbling something about having an annoying huntress to kill.

Same old Annabeth, same old Thalia. I laughed and headed into my quarters. I was surprised when I impulsively dropped down on the couch, not even making it to my bedroom. I hadn't realized how tired I was. I fell asleep almost immediately.

**Not too happy with this one. Its sort of boring, but there were a whole lot of things I needed to get sorted before the story moved on. Chapters are going to start coming slower. I've got an Islam test coming up and I'm also working on an actual (as in non-fanfiction) story. "Stand aside, puny mortal. My arrows always strike true..."  
**

**R&R please. I always enjoy constructive criticism. **


	5. Chapter 5: Off Time

**Ah, here we go. Sorry its been so long since I've updated. Before we go, I've got an interesting review to respond to.**

_hi ive got one comment on the navy, the seawolf attack subs are planned to be largely replaced by the Virginia class subs, and both have the capability, i believe, of launching cruise missals which have the capability of carrying nuclear warheads (thats what cruise missles were origanally designed for)_**_-_Hamza Qussar**

**He is right here. The Virginia-Class sub building program has superseded the Seawolf program. However, this is not because the Virginias are more advanced, but rather due to the decrease in funding after the cold war. The navy could no longer afford to build the costly, technologically advanced Seawolves. So why are they the primary subs in my story? I dunno. Maybe Chiron used his mist manipulating powers to convince the president to increase military funding.**

**And yes, the attack submarines can launch Tomahawk Cruise missiles. And yes, Tomahawks are capable of having nuclear warheads. However, in accordance with the SALT treaties, the US Navy removed this capability. The Trident Ballistic Missiles carried by Ballistic Missile submarines like the Ohios still carry nukes, and have a much longer range, and as such operate in a first-strategic rather than secondary-tactical strike role.**

**Ive had a few people ask about Grover and Nico. Nico will be in it. I don't know about Grover though.**

**Sorry about the _slow _plot development. I'm in this one for the long haul, so the story is gonna be pretty long. The main plot hasn't even developed yet...**

**Thanks for all the reviews. And without further ado...**

Annabeth's POV (**Author's note: This is the first and last time I'm doing this POV. I just needed to figure out a way to give an outside view on what Percy was really like during the college years**. **I couldn't think of how else to do it. And, being a guy, I am no good at writing from a girl's point of view. So as I said. First and last time)**

Granted, the food on the _Athena_ wasn't great, but it was nice to have some real American food in my stomach after ten years in Moscow. I sat at a table in the boisterous mess hall, chowing down on the first real burger I had had in…a long time. Even though it was breakfast. Percy was up on the hangar deck sorting through some logistics issue concerning the _Ares_'s air wing. Thalia was sitting across from me, chewing a granola bar. Apparently, granola bars are the latest fad among the hunters.

I took another massive bite out of my burger, chewing messily. Another thing I hated about eating in Russia was that I almost always ate at diplomatic functions. It was nice to be able to eat messily again.

Something had been nagging at me for awhile. I've got to say, I feel bad for leaving Percy without notice or anything. It wasn't really my choice, though. The secrecy was necessary. Still, I had to know. I glanced around the mess to make sure no one was nearby. "Was he really that bad?" I asked Thalia quietly.

She knew exactly what I meant, and nodded gravely. "He spent twelve months searching for you. Probably would have spent longer if I hadn't convinced him that you were most likely dead. Then after that, he sort of…" Thalia grimaced.

"Sort of what?" I pressed nervously.

"Became depressed. I really didn't like the Naval Academy at all. I've never told him this, but the reason I stayed was that I couldn't leave him there alone. He didn't really know what to do with himself without you around. I felt sorry for him, so is stuck around and tried to keep him on the right track."

I rested my head in my hands frustrated. "He doesn't deserve any of this shit. He had enough goddamn problems in the first sixteen years of his life."

Thalia grimaced. "Gotta agree with you on that one. That's why I stuck around with him at the Academy. Otherwise, I probably would have joined the Airforce."

I glanced at her over my mug of coffee, considering her expression. "I think you like him more than you let on."

Thalia nodded. "It's hard not to get along with him. Well, at least it is when he isn't depressed. His heart's in the right place, and he's usually so…"

"Stupidly optimistic?" I suggested.

Thalia nodded. "Something like that, yeah. While he was depressed, though, he sort of…lost that cheerful, easygoing manner. That's why it was great when he found his sister. For a good three months, he sort of reverted back to his old self."

"He loves her a lot, doesn't he?" I said, more of a statement than a question.

Thalia answered anyways. "Yeah. Chiron said he'd never seen a half-blood get so attached to one of their half-siblings. He loves Claire like she's an actual sister. And she sort of is, since Mrs. Jackson adopted her. I think Percy would do just about anything to rescue her if she was captured, even march straight into Erebus."

I could almost feel my expression soften. "He does that sort of thing for his family. When he was twelve, he went and-"

"Stared down Hades to get his mother back. You've told me that story before," said Thalia.

I nodded. "If you think he's insanely loyal to his friends, you've never seen the sort of things he'd do to save his family. It's always been just his mom, but it's nice that he has someone else now."

Thalia smiled. "Yeah. Aside from the two of them, there's only one person I think he'd go to such lengths to rescue."

"Poseidon?" I guessed, curious, taking another bite of my burger.

"No, silly. I mean _you_," said Thalia.

I laughed. "He doesn't care about me _that_ much."

"You kidding me? Rumor has it he even went and checked Tartarus for you," Thalia told me.

"He did _what_!?" I said incredulously.

"You heard me," stated Thalia simply, a smug grin on her face for some strange reason.

"What an idiot…Tartarus…what, was he trying to get himself killed?" I muttered.

Thalia grinned wider. "Anyhow," she said, getting back to the story. "Percy took it upon himself to teach and train Claire personally, rather than sending her to Camp every summer. He said that it was because she was too old for camp, but I think that the real reason was simply that he wanted to. He taught her everything he knew. Now she's almost as powerful as he is,"

I shuddered involuntarily as I took a bite of my burger. "Scary."

"Yeah. The monsters actually learned to stay away from the three of us at the academy," Thalia added.

"You said he only went back to normal for three months?" I asked.

Thalia grimaced. "One day, he took Claire to camp just so he could show her the place. They went to his old cabin, and he found a…picture I had taken a few years back."

I raised an eyebrow. "A picture of what?"

"Of the two of you, just sitting together on the beach, watching a sunset. Just sitting there," she elaborated.

"Oh," I murmured, not really sure how to respond to this.

"It was too much for Percy. He became really sad again. Not actually depressed, just sad. He always seemed to be…somewhere else. Always thinking, never smiling. Always distant, never focused. So unlike him. He had his sister, though, and that helped. So when the Naval Intelligence Service recruited me to run air missions for them after I graduated, I accepted. They allowed me to leave a note to a family member, though, since I would be flying air missions, not going undercover. I didn't really have a family, so I left Percy the note."

"You really like him, huh?" I said to Thalia, trying to keep my voice even.

"Of course I do. It's hard not to like Percy," Thalia responded. Then she saw my expression. "Oh, not like that, silly. As a friend…or," she paused to think. "I guess after all those years looking after him, I almost think of him as a brother. I'd definitely much rather hang out with him than my actual half-brother. The guy inherited his father's ego and lust for power." Thalia smiled at me. "Don't worry, Annabeth. Percy is all yours."

I felt heat rising to my cheeks. "That's not what I meant. I don't like him like that. And he doesn't like me like that either."

Thalia rolled her eyes. "Sure. Whatever. Just keep believing that."

I was about to make a rather nasty, intelligently thought our retort when someone walked over.

"Captain Chase, sir," said a woman who I knew to be Commander Skylark, saluting to me. "Commander," she said, nodding to Thalia.

"Just call me Annabeth when we're off duty," I said, patting the seat next to me. "Here, have a seat."

She sat down. "This is Thalia Grace," I said, pointing to Thalia.

"I know," said Skylark, "we chatted awhile when Thalia asked for an assignment on the Air Wing."

"Hmm," I said.

"Oh, silly me!" Skylark exclaimed. "Didn't introduce myself to you! I'm Commander Andrea Skylark. But most people just call me Sky when we're off duty."

I smiled. "Sky, huh? A fitting name for a pilot."

Sky nodded happily. "I've got a question for you."

"Okay, shoot," I said.

"What are you to the Admiral? He's seemed, I dunno, different since the two of you showed up," she said. "He used to be so…"

"Distant? Sad?" Thalia suggested.

"Yeah, that's right," Sky said. "Everyone on the ship has noticed the change in him. And you wouldn't _believe _the rumors."

I grimaced. "I don't even want to know."

Sky laughed. "Don't worry, I don't really believe any of them. But I am curious as to how you know him. He never really talks about his past."

"I'm his cousin," said Thalia truthfully. "We went to the Naval Academy together." Skylark looked at her in surprise, probably because Thalia looked _way_ younger than Percy.

I wasn't really sure what to say. "I guess…" I started. "We used to be best friends. We met when we were both twelve. We sort of stuck by each other through a lot of crap until we were seventeen, and I got snatched up by the Naval Intelligence Service."

"Interesting," said Skylark. "He never really struck me as the type who would ever have many good friends."

"He is. Or was, anyways," answered Thalia."He wasn't always to sad and distant. He used to be very outgoing and cheerful and-"

"Stupidly optimistic," I finished, using that description of Percy for the second time that breakfast.

"Hmm, well, I'm glad for it, at any rate," said Skylark, standing up from her seat. "I've got to get back to work. Good luck with the Admiral," she added, winking at me.

"I..what…um…no…what!?" I stammered.

Skylark turned to Thalia. "She's totally clueless, huh?"

Thalia nodded in agreement. "The both of them are."

Skylark shook her head in disapproval. "Tisk tisk. Well, see y'all around." She walked away.

"See ya," said Thalia.

"Bye," I said quietly, still a little unnerved from her statement. Then I rounded on Thalia. "Why the hell does everyone assume that he and I like each other, huh?

Thalia looked very, very smug. I felt just a teensy bit like punching her face in.

"Because it's _so_ obvious," said Thalia, her smug grin not shifting a millimeter as she talked.

Now I practically had to use my left hand to stop my right hand from acting of its own accord. "This is _exactly_ what made the friendship between him and me so goddamn awkward after the war. Everyone assuming this and that, trying to get Percy and I hooked up together."

As if to make everything even more awkward, Percy walked into the room in his dark blue and grey Naval Working uniform. He looked quite good in it, I'd have to say. What? I'm not allowed to say that my best friend looks good in something?

"Ooohhh, here he comes," whispered Thalia. I glared at her.

"Hey," said Percy, sitting down next to me.

I didn't even look at him, feeling honor-bound to win my glaring contest with Thalia.

"Uh…do I even want to know?" he asked, looking between me and Thalia.

"Yes," said Thalia.

"NO!" I barked firmly.

"Uh-huh. Well, I'll be…somewhere else," declared Percy, glancing nervously between me and Thalia. "And you two should probably stop glaring at each other _before_ your eyeballs dry out," he added before walking away.

{~=~}

_Percy's Point of View. Later that day…_

By my calculations, we would be reaching Pearl Harbor very soon. That said, knowing how accurate my calculations usually are, we might not be anywhere _near_ Pearl Harbor. Still, I was too lazy to call up the bridge, so I just started packing my bags for some nice, long shore leave. I had one small suitcase, stuffed full of clothes. It was filled with jeans and shorts alike, because the temperatures in the late summer varies from the sixties to the eighties across the islands of Hawaii. I nabbed my hygiene stuff, sunscreen, and one of those reusable metal water bottles and stuffed them in my backpack, where I always kept my stash of nectar and ambrosia.

I took off my Naval Working Uniform and sipped into a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a button-down blue-and-white collared shirt. I jammed a pair of sunglasses into my face and unbuttoned a few buttons on the shirt, rolling the sleeves up past my elbows. I glanced at the clock. _1:37_. Good, we should be arriving in…

"All hands, this is the bridge," came a voice on the intercom. "We'll be docking in ten minutes. Report to your stations if necessary."

…ah…ten minutes.

Then someone knocked on my door. "Its unlocked," I called.

I heard the door swing open, and a very familiar woman walked in wearing short khaki shorts and a V-neck t-shirt.

"Did you hear your Captain, Percy?" said Annabeth. "We'll be there in ten! You had better be packed!" Then she actually noticed me. "Whoa…" she stated, staring at me.

"Uhmm…" I said, fidgeting nervously.

Whatever had shocked her, she recovered quickly. "Wow, Percy. You're actually packed!" Go figure.

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that surprise I hear in your voice?"

"No shit, Sherlock," Annabeth said, rolling her eyes. "Now come on, let's grab Thalia and get the hell off this boat."

I folded my arms. "You talkin' smack about my _ship_?" I said, emphasizing the word _ship_. It's simply an insult to call a hundred-thousand-ton aircraft carrier a 'boat.'

"Come _on_," she said irately, grabbing my arm and pulling me out of my room.

"Okay, okay," I conceded, grabbing the handle of my suitcase and swinging my backpack over one shoulder.

Before I knew it, I had been dragged all the way to Thalia's quarters, and Annabeth was banging on the door.

"Sheesh, calm down. I'm right here," said Thalia as she opened the door.

"Thalia," I admonished, rolling my eyes at her grey shorts and navy blue tee. "How many times do I have to say this! Wear lightly colored clothes. They reflect the light better."

"So?" Thalia asked, shrugging and making her way down the hallway with a suitcase and black backpack.

"We're in _Hawaii_ for Zeus's sake! Sunshine capital of the freaking world!"

"So?" Thalia said again.

"So-ya' know what, forget I said anything," I huffed.

"With pleasure," responded Thalia, looking rather smug for getting me annoyed. But _I _wasn't the one who was going to be burning to death in a Hawaiian rainforest in a few hours.

The service elevator lurched to a stop on the flight deck, and I stepped out into the blaring Hawaiian sun. Off the flight deck, I could see the cool green waters of Pearl Harbor sparkling in the sun, little white points of light bouncing off the crests of tiny wavelets. The day was actually a bit windy, but my mood tends to have an effect on the waters nearby me. The _Athena_ was running slow and quietly though the water, and the modest white wake created a very miniscule, pleasant splashing noise. Sailors and airmen were bustling quietly around the deck, subconsciously acting in harmony with the peaceful silence as they loaded helicopters.

Helicopters….helicopters. Oh Crap! I forgot to arrange a flight off the ship!

Annabeth must have noticed some sort of expression on my face, because she promptly laughed at me. "Don't worry. I arranged a chopper for us last night," she assured me, pointing at a UH-1Y Venom utility helicopter sitting idly nearby, its pilot standing next to it and looking rather bored.

I whistled loudly and the pilot turned to look at me. I made a little rotor motion with my index finger, and the pilot saluted, hopping in to start the chopper up.

"So nice of you to assume that I wouldn't get it taken care of," I commented to Annabeth.

"It's generally a given," she said.

"Stop flirting and get in the chopper already!" barked a frustrated Thalia from behind us.

I rolled my eyes and brushed off her comment as the rotors of the helicopter began to spin, slicing through the air and shredding the serene quiet to pieces.

The side door to the chopper swung open, and the three of us quickly dashed to it, covering our ears to protect from the steadily increasing noise of the rotors. We practically jumped inside, and I slammed the heavy metal door shut.

"Will isn't coming?" asked Thalia.

I shook my head. "He and Bertha have got a lot of work to do."

"Regarding the _Ares_?" Thalia questioned. I nodded solemnly.

"Strap y'erselves up," said the pilot, fastening his headset onto his head.

I looked around for the belt, and subsequently realized I was sitting on it. I stood half out of the seat to get it, and fumbled with the straps as I sat back down. Hearing a giggle from my left, I looked over and saw Annabeth, already strapped in, watching me amusedly. I stuck my tongue out at her childishly, and returned to the problem of my seatbelt.

"Control, this is Lifter oh-seven-niner. Requesting clearance for takeoff, over," I heard the pilot say.

"Lifter oh-seven-niner, you are cleared for takeoff. Switching you over to Hickam AFB now. And on behalf of the crew, happy vacation to the Admiral and his friends," crackled a voice over the radio.

"Thank you, _Athena_ control. Lifter oh-seven-niner out," the pilot replied as the helicopter slowly lifted itself off the deck of the carrier.

Upon reaching thirty feet or so, the helicopter lurched forward as it continued its rise. I gripped the seat nervously, my knuckles whitening quite noticeably in comparison to my tan skin. If Zeus was in a bad mood, I and everyone on the chopper would be dead. He had been going easy on the no-flying rule since the Second Titanomachy, but I still didn't like to test his patience.

Annabeth noticed, and she rested her hand on top of mine and squeezed it. She leaned over and whispered, "Percy, Thalia is on the chopper. Do you really think Zeus would risk killing her?"

A valid point. I calmed down considerably.

I could see out the front windshield that we were coming up fast on Hickam Air Force Base, which was expansive due to the fact that it's directly connected to and shares several runways with Honolulu International Airport. A civilian passenger liner screamed down one of the runways and jumped into the air nearby, drowning out the sound of our radio as the control tower at Hickam tried to contact us.

"Lif---nine---base---over

Once the noise had died down, we heard it again. "Repeat, this is Hickam Air Force Base, please respond, over."

"Hickam control, this is Lifter oh-seven-niner off the _Athena_, Requesting clearance to land," responded our pilot.

"Confirmed. Continue on your present course; you are cleared to land on helipad three," said the disembodied radio voice.

"Roger that, control. Helipad three," confirmed the pilot. "Coming in for a landing." The rotors slowed helicopter slowly sank from the air, soon touching down softly on what I assumed was helipad three.

"End o' the line, sir," said our pilot as the rotors fell completely silent.

"Thanks," I told him as I swung the great metal door opened.

Thalia, Annabeth, and I all hopped out of the chopper, dragging our bags along, and coming face to face with Rear Admiral (lower half) Anderson, commander of the task force led by the USS _Firestorm_. He snapped to attention.

"At ease, Admiral," I ordered. "What brings out here?" Admiral Michael Anderson is a son of Nike. Showed up at camp as part of the wave of new campers after the war. I don't really know him personally, but he's a great officer, being a son of victory herself. He's four years younger than myself, and showed up at camp two years after the war.

Speaking of victory herself, Nike is about as close to 'cool' as an immortal deity can get. But more on that later.

Admiral Anderson smirked. "Just wanted to see if the rumors were true?"

"Rumors?" I asked.

"Yeah, rumors. That Annabeth Chase and Thalia Grace are back from the dead," he told me.

I grinned. "I don't know about the 'the dead' part, but they're sure back."

"I can see that. They've aged you Thalia?" he asked, nodding to my cousin.

She nodded, eyeing him warily. The two of them had met briefly at a party at camp about thirteen years ago. He accidentally tripped her, she got pissed, she 'accidentally' almost killed him. Typical half-blood stuff.

"And you, I presume, are the legendary Annabeth Chase," he said, extending his hand towards Annabeth for her to shake. I guess he showed up too late to have ever met her. "Michael Anderson, son of Nike," he introduced.

She took his hand and shook it, "legendary?"

Anderson nodded. "We all thought you were dead. And 'the late Annabeth Chase' just seemed too disrespectful, so we just used 'the legendary Annabeth Chase.'"

I cleared my throat. "Where'd you hear these rumors? The only people who know are Will, Claire, Chiron, and myself."

Admiral Anderson grinned. "Travis Stoll has Hephaestus spy cameras throughout the Pentagon. And, well, ya' know how it goes. Son of Hermes gets wind of something, and suddenly every half blood from New York to China knows about it."

I smiled and nodded.

"Travis is still up to his old tricks, eh?" asked Annabeth.

Anderson looked amused. "Sure is."

There was a punctuated pause in the conversation. "Say, Michael. We were just off to Maui to hike around Haleakala National Park. Wanna come?" I suggested.

He shook his head. "I've got work to do. The _Firestorm_ isn't quite ready for sea yet. See you later, Admiral," and he walked off. Typical son of Nike.

"Alrighty," I said, sticking my hands in my shorts pockets. "I'm gonna go see if my sister has land-"

"Helipad one," interrupted Annabeth, pointing at a utility helicopter landing nearby, the word **POSEIDON **printed in bold type along its tail.

"Ah," I said, leading the way towards it.

The chopper's rotors slowed to a stop, and the metal cargo door slid open. My sister hopped out, looking unbelievably cool, as she always does. She was dressed for the sun (though she sure didn't need any; we children of Poseidon tan well and easily), wearing a light blue tank top and short khaki colored shorts, all rounded off with a pair of nice sunglasses.

I smirked at her. "I told you we're going hiking in the rainforest, not lazing on the beach, right?"

She nodded as she pulled her luggage out of the helicopter. Giving me a one-armed hug in greeting, she said, "let's go catch a cab and drop our crap off at the hotel," and strutted off towards the road, fully aware of the profound effect she was having on almost every guy in a half-mile radius.

Thalia rolled her eyes, and the three of us followed Claire to the cab area.

"Is she always like this?" Annabeth whispered in my ear.

"Uh-huh," I responded. "If you get to know her, she's probably just about the kindest person you'll ever meet. But she just seems to take some sick enjoyment out of messing with guys' heads."

"She sure is good at it," muttered Annabeth, glancing at all the guys who were staring at my sister as she walked towards the airport exit.

I nodded. "I used to be concerned that it would cause her to have guys crawling all over her and that I might have to protect her or whatever normal brothers do, but…"

"But what?"

A smirk spread across my face. "Usually, guys who really try to flirt with her come back looking very shell-shocked. Or come back in an ambulance."

Annabeth was grinning as well now. "No wonder she and Thalia get along."

"I heard that," called Thalia from my other side.

I turned to her. "You can't deny that you're like that, too."

She shook her head. "Most guys who flirt with me don't get off with an ambulance. More like a hearse, usually."

I chuckled. "One way ticket to the morgue."

"Sounds about right," responded Thalia, nodding seriously. I laughed. I need to find some more normal friends. I hang out with too many women who are capable of beating the living shit out of me.

We had reached the cab area by now. There were lots of people loitering around, and not too many cabs. Fortunately, my sister and I are New Yorkers.

With a loud whistle and some aggressive attention getting, we got a cab to pull over near us. We stuffed our luggage in the back, and crammed ourselves into the seats; I was squeezed uncomfortably between Claire and Annabeth in the back, while Thalia lounged about in the front passenger seat. Typical.

"Where to?" asked the cabbie.

"Hilton Waikiki Prince Kuhio Hotel," I informed him. "Know the way?"

"Sure do," responded the cabbie. The vehicle lurched forward.

The hotel was only about nine miles from the airport, fortunately, and we got there very quickly. I handed the cabbie a twenty and asked him to wait around for us as we quickly checked ourselves in (we each had our own room), and dragged our luggage up to the thirty-sixth floor where our rooms were.

We returned to the ground floor where the cabbie was still waiting for us, tapping his foot impatiently. "I may have to charge for this waiting time, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I said, rolling my eyes, as we all crammed back into the cab. I had always figured that it was just the New York cabbies who were pushy. I guess it was like that in every city.

The cab sped forward, and we were off to catch a ferry, which would take us to the island of Maui for a peaceful day of hiking around the rainforest parts of Haleakala National Park. One think you learn as a demigod, though, is that things start to go from bad to worse the moment they seem to be getting better…

**There you go. Again, I'm really sorry for the long delay. As soon as I finished my Islam stuff, I had a weekend MUN conference and got saddled with a bunch of crap about the Mongols, East Asia, and the Middle Ages. Everything at school is finally starting to wind down, though, so updates might pick up in frequency. **

**R&R please.**


	6. Chapter 6: Into Action

**Chapter Six. Not the longest chapter, but not the shortest either.  
**

"Oh my _gods_, Thalia. Wait _up_!"

And that's pretty much the summary of our afternoon. Whose brilliant idea was it to go hiking with a huntress, anyways? Oh yeah, mine. Way to live up to your nickname, Percy.

"Slowpokes!" Thalia yelled over her shoulder from thirty feet up the trail from us. I rolled my eyes. It wasn't like I wasn't fit or anything. In fact, I jogged around the flight deck of the _Athena _a lot. Two laps was almost a mile. Thalia just had an unfair advantage. She _signed up_ to hike around the woods for the rest of eternity.

Claire and Annabeth were another fifteen feet behind me, talking quietly about something. That something being me, I suspected.

"Look, Thals. We really should-"

I ducked in reflex as an explosion lit up the sky, tearing a hole through a great white thunderhead in the distance. As the bright light faded, I could see additional streaks of fire and smoke headed our way, leaving long white gashes in the blue sky.

Missiles. _Tartarus_, I cursed mentally.

"What the hell was that!" yelled Annabeth as another explosion jarred our eardrums.

"Missiles!" I shouted over the din of repeated blasts. It was beginning to sound like the area was a warzone. If I looked closely, I could see feint white lines lancing up from the surface on nearby islands, correlating with the midair detonations.

"Why are they exploding in the air?" asked Thalia.

"Patriot batteries," I said as I fumbled for my cell phone. "Our missile defense systems are responding. It's only a matter of time before something gets through." I pounded a number into my phone.

"Something being-" Annabeth started.

"A nuclear device, yes," I answered as I brought my phone up to my ear and the ringing began.

Thalia sat down and closed her eyes. "Lovely. I'll do my best to help stop the missiles, but with so many, I don't think I'll be able to help much."

Finally, someone answered my phone. "_This is Pearl Harbor Naval base."_

"Get me Command," I ordered.

"_I'm sorry, who is this? We're a little busy now,"_ the voice said. I cowered again in reflex as bravado of explosions temporarily added to the daytime light.

"This is Admiral Jackson, USN! Get me your commanding officer!" I yelled.

The guy just laughed. _"Admiral Jackson… hah… nice try. Rest assured, everything is going to be alright. We would ask that civilians to not clog our phone lines-"_

"I'm not-"

"_We appreciate your concern-"_

"I'll have you court marshaled!" I threatened.

"_Bye."_ And he hung up.

"Damn it!" I cursed. "We really need to get some caller ID at the naval base!" Explosions continued to rock the sky as I resisted the temptation to chuck the phone.

"What now?" asked Claire.

I started to scan through my address book for another number. "I'm going to call Admiral Anderson's cell. I can't believe I left my walkie-talkie at the hotel!"

"Uh… PJ?" Claire said.

"What?" I continued to scan my address book.

She pointed up at the sky. "Look."

I looked up. Rockets were bearing down on the islands. Lots more of them than the last group. Much more than we could possible handle with the Patriot batteries.

"Shit," I muttered simply, as slowly the missiles were intercepted high up. It wasn't going to be enough.

"Everybody down!" I shouted pointlessly. If a nuke hit, no amount of cover would be able to save our sorry rears.

Before any missile detonated, though, green beams of light began to burn through the daytime sky.

"What the…" Annabeth murmured. "Thalia, you doing that?" The green beams were lancing down from the heavens, frying missiles with untold efficiency. They were hard to see in the daylight, and literally only lasted for a blink of the eye.

Thalia shook her head.

Then it clicked. "The Missile Defense satellites. They finally activated."

Claire looked at me, surprised. "They're still doing trials. The system isn't due up for another few weeks."

"I suppose they figured now is as good a time as any to try 'em out," I guessed, as another round of missiles was systematically destroyed by the green lasers. I went back to surfing through my address book. Damn it! His last name is _Anderson_, for gods sakes, he should be near the top…oh, here it is. I spelled it wrong. _Znderson._ Wonderful.

I pressed dial and brought the phone to my ear.

"_Uh… hello?"_

"Anderson! It's me, Admiral Jackson! What the hell is going on?"

"_Oh, thank goodness. We've been trying to radio you for-"_

"Save it, Admiral. What's going on?"

"_I don't know, sir. Missile attacks, probably Russian by the direction. Haven't gotten anything from the Pentagon yet, but NB Coronado says they're under attack as well, and we're at DEFCON 1."_

"How's it holding up?"

"_The SD system has had 100% efficiency so far, obviously. I mean, we're not dead."_

"Good, good." I glanced up at the sky. The number of explosions was decreasing; the attackers were realizing that it wasn't working.

"_Look, where are you? I'll have the _Athena _dispatch a chopper to pick you up."_

I looked around and snorted. "I don't know. Were in the middle of the woods somewhere-look, just trace the call, alright?"

"_On it."_

I put a hand over the mouthpiece. "Get your rear in gear, everyone. We're going to get picked up."

"Everything's under control?" Annabeth asked.

"Sounds like it. Anderson doesn't seem _too _panicked, and the SD system is holding up great. We've gone to DEFCON 1."

"DEFCON 1! Shit, this is bad!" exclaimed Claire.

"_We've got your location sir. Standby for pickup," _came Anderson's voice out of my cell phone.

"Right. Thanks and bye," I concluded, snapping the phone shut.

Thirty minutes later, Claire had been dropped off on the _Poseidon_ and Thalia, Annabeth, and I were dashing across the _Athena's _flight deck to reach the island. Running up a few flights of stairs, we reached the bridge in seconds flat.

I glanced nervously out the windows, even though the missile attacks had stopped over fifteen minutes ago. "How's everybody holding up?" I asked, looking at the assembled officers. White knuckles and nervous sweat all around.

"We're all a bit shaken up, sir," responded Commander Lantean from the center. "Frayed nerves, all that. Oh, and uh…"

"Say, where's Captain Berkner?" I wondered aloud, scanning the room for my elusive flag captain.

Lantean gulped. "The stress was a bit much for the poor guy's heart. He had a heart attack. We airlifted him to the hospital."

"Is he okay?" I pressed concernedly.

"Yeah, but the doctors don't want him back on active duty for awhile."

"Looks like I need a new flag captain then," I sighed. Berkner was a great officer. "Well, contact command and see if they have anyone-" I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Sir?"

I grinned lopsidedly and turned to my left. Sure enough, Annabeth was staring at me expectantly.

"Captain Chase," I said. "How would you like to be the first officer of the _Athena_?"

"It would be my honor," she said dramatically.

"Yes it would," I muttered smugly. That earned me an elbow in the side.

"Alright people!" I announced. "Get organized. I want the CCC fully staffed. Get info from all our SOSUS and intel nets. I want to know what the hell is going on!"

Commander Lantean began to get up out of the chair. "Stay there," I ordered. "I'm headed down to the CCC to get on the horn with the Pentagon." I turned to Annabeth and Thalia. "You two come with me."

The Command and Control Center was a complete madhouse. Staff officers were running around frantically, shouting, generating general mayhem. The big display board was getting overwhelmed with data and flickering a bit. No one even noticed me as I walked in.

I entered the satellite communications room, Annabeth and Thalia close behind me, and relieved the lieutenant stationed there.

"Pentagon," I ordered, sitting down in the chair.

When the image flickered onto the screen that was coming down from the ceiling, Chiron was already there.

"Percy! Thank the gods! Everything's going- oh, hello Annabeth, Thalia. No time for pleasantries, unfortunately." He was talking very, very fast.

"What the hell is going on, Chiron?" I demanded.

He gulped. "The shit has officially hit the fan."

"What?"

"The shit has hit the fan. It's the Russians. Or Titans, whatever. The whole US was targeted by the nuclear bombardment. We've gone to DEFCON 1," he said.

"Any hits?" I asked.

Chiron shook his head. "We managed to get the MDS system online before anything got through the conventional missile defenses. They stopped the attacks the moment they realized it wasn't working."

"So we're in a full scale war now?" Annabeth asked.

"Yes. NATO has mobilized quickly, but the Russians were in position. Belarus, Estonia, and Ukraine have been overrun by their armored divisions. There's fighting in Poland, Latvia, and Lithuania now. Turkish and Greek troops are moving into the Caucasus to halt the Russian advance there as we speak."

"Damn. The fan must've been on high," I joked. "What's the US response?"

"Non-nuclear, thankfully. We are safe from nuclear strike behind our defense net, so we are only going to blow Russia off the face of the earth as a last resort. I convinced the President to begin mobilizing everything except the National Guard the moment you informed me of the sinking of the Ares. Most of the Army is already either on a plane to Europe or waiting at an Airbase on the east coast. Civilian air traffic across Western Europe has been shut down to allow for our planes to land at the airports. V Corps is already heavily engaged in and around Warsaw. The Seventh Army is screaming for reinforcements…"

"Yeah, yeah, I get the picture. What about the Pacific? Oh, and the Chinese?"

"It looks like some Demigods loyal to the titans have managed to infiltrate the Chinese navy pretty damn well. They took their units, including a trio of midsized carriers, and gathered with Russian fleet elements at Vladivostok," Chiron reported grimly. "Four Russian carriers were present as well."

"Seven carriers…" I muttered.

"And at least twelve assault ships. But your carriers are much bigger than theirs, so you may still have air superiority," Chiron added.

"Only have three carriers at my disposal for the moment," I said. "The _Atlantis _and _Equinox _aren't here yet."

"That's going to be a bit of a problem," Chiron said. "I'm sending you a data burst now." A picture of a port filled with warships pushed Chiron to one half of the screen, sort of like they do on the news. "This was about five days ago, right before the fleet left port." The image changed, showing a large fleet formation out at sea. "This is an hour ago. They seem to be making for Washington, just south of Seattle by their trajectory. They should be there in under six days."

"And the Assault Ships…" Annabeth asked.

Chiron nodded. "Filled with troops. And our demigod spies believe one of the Assault Ships was loaded with monsters."

I shuddered involuntarily.

"It's an invasion, and the Army is way out of position. You'll have to intercept them, Percy. Have all your active fleet elements converge on Seattle. I've already re-routed the _Maine_…"

"Nukes? You want me to nuke the fleet?" I demanded. "Isn't that dangerous? What if they're too close to shore?"

Chiron sighed. "If all else fails, the nukes will be necessary. If they capture the port facilities at Seattle, they will be able to send huge numbers of troops on more conventional troop transports, and offload large amounts of vehicles at the port. That cannot be allowed to happen."

I winced. "Has Seattle been evacuated?"

"I'm leaving all that up to you," Chiron said. He leaned forward and put his arms on the desk that I could see on the screen. "We have another problem. They are trying to take down our satellite defense net. It looks like they've released an indiscriminate computer virus that is targeting just about every satellite up there. It's only a matter of time before it spreads to the Missile Defense Satellites. After that, they will likely open up with the Nukes again."

"How long?" I asked grimly.

"We don't know, but we've discovered that by shutting down all the other satellites in orbit, we can slow the virus's spread. It will buy us some time to figure out how to stop it. But that means-"

"-that all our communications and intelligence satellites will be down," concluded Annabeth.

"And the Russians still have theirs?" I asked.

"No," Chiron said. "The virus is indiscriminate, so the Russians shut down their own satellites so that they could simply reactivate them in working order after the virus has done its work on us."

"How long until we trigger our shutdown?"

"Complete shutdown in fifteen minutes. Get your plans set and people organized. Pentagon out." The screen went blank.

"Shit," summarized Thalia after a few seconds of silence. Annabeth and I both looked at her. "What?" she protested.

I shook my head and stepped out into the still bustling control room.

"Attention!" I shouted. A few turned my way.

"ATTENTION!" screamed Annabeth for emphasis. The room instantly felt silent.

"Uh… thank you captain," I said. Annabeth grinned. "Alright people, we have a situation," I announced. "There is a Russian invasion fleet, supported by renegade Chinese, en route to Seattle. The Army is out of position; we need to intercept the fleet before it gets to shore."

The officers mumbled nervously.

"The Pentagon is also shutting down our Satellites in less than fifteen minutes in order to preserve the missile defense satellites from an enemy computer virus until we can find a solution. We have FIFTEEN MINUTES, to alert all commands and stations from Japan to California of the situation! After that, get the marines on our assault ships! I want the whole fleet ready for sea in under an hour! Get organized, people!"

I did an about face and stepped back into the satellite room. "USS _Atlantis_," I ordered, hoping Admiral Lawrence was on hand. Sure enough, the frantic face of the British accented officer appeared onscreen.

"Admiral Jackson, sir, thank god! I've been trying to reach you! NB Coronado told me about the missile attack, and now I'm getting word from your control center about an invasion fleet?"

"It's all true, Admiral," I responded gravely. "I want you to reroute your fleet. Make for Seattle with all speed."

"Sir, we're about to arrive at Pearl, now, and we need to refuel..."

"Fine, refuel and the get your ass back to sea!" I growled.

"Y-yessir. We'll just be a few hours behind you."

"I also need you to contact NB Coronado and tell them to send the _Truman _and its task force to rendezvous with my fleet as we approach Seattle. _Athena_ out," I finished. The screen went blank.

"What now?" asked Annabeth. I turned around, realizing that my two friends were still in the room.

"Washington National Guard. In fact, I think I may know someone there… Camp Murray, Washington," I ordered the computer.

A familiar face flickered onto the screen. "Washington State and National Guard headquarters here, how can I-"the General onscreen stopped short. "Good god, Percy. Is that you? And Thalia! Back from Russia, eh? And who's that chi- ohmygodsisthatAnnabeth?"

"Yea Nico, it is. No time to chat, though; we've got a situation, as I'm sure my control center informed you," I said, and Nico nodded. "You in command of the Washington National Guard now?"

"Such as it is," he muttered glumly.

"Good, get it mobilized, and start evacuating Seattle. I don't want _anyone_ in that city if we have to nuke it."

"Shit, man! Your gonna nuke Seattle!" exclaimed Nico.

"If it comes to that. The Russian Invasion fleet cannot be allowed to take the port."

"How long do I have?"

"Five days. Maybe six if you're really lucky."

"Will you get there in time?" General di Angelo asked.

"We're probably six days out," I said. "So they might beat us to you by a few hours… get the Washington National Guard ready, Nico, and anyone else you can find."

He snorted. "With the army gone, Fort Lewis is a ghost town now."

"Then radio the Oregon and Idaho National Guards," I suggested.

"Maybe, but I don't have any authority over them."

"Then tell them that it's on my orders," I said. "We need to get a defense organized! They will probably be landing on the beaches south of Seattle. You need to be ready."

Nico sighed nervously. "Alright, I'll get to work. We'll have to catch up later, I suppose."

I nodded. "I'll see you after the battle. _Athena_ out." The screen went blank.

"What now?" asked Thalia.

"I'm going to head up to the bridge to get my fleet underway. You should come with me, Annabeth," I said. "Actually, what are we going to do about the monster-crewed assault ship?"

"Sink it," Thalia suggested.

"But we need a contingency plan, in case it reached shore before we catch up to it," Annabeth said.

We all thought for a moment. "I know!" Thalia cried, piercing the silence. I looked at her in surprise. It's usually Annabeth with the bright ideas.

"What?" I demanded.

"I'm going to IM the huntresses, see if they can't come and help us."

"Good, good," I said, feeling relieved. "Tell them to find General di Angelo so that we can communicate the location of the Assault ship by radio to them when the battle comes around."

"Alright. Take it easy, guys," said Thalia, dashing up the hall.

Annabeth and I soon found ourselves on the _Athena's _bridge. The officers there were notably less tense than before.

"Admiral on the bridge!" announced an officer. The staff stood up and saluted.

"As you were," I said. I glanced over at the communication station. Lieutenant Mathews was on duty.

"Mathews, get me the fleet," I ordered. "The entire fleet." He punched a few buttons and handed me a radio input.

"Fleet, this is Admiral Jackson," I announced. "My CCC has informed you of the situation. We will be departing for Seattle immediately. All surface warships take up station around your carrier. All Assault Ships will form around the _Tripoli_. Our subs will screen the fleet as we move out. Admiral Lawrence will be an hour or so behind us with the carriers _Equinox _and _Atlantis_; he needs to refuel. The _Truman _and it's task force will be joining us eventually."

I glanced out the bridge viewports. The 150 ships that were clogging up the port began to bustle with activity. Admiral Anderson's _Firestorm_ and Admiral Ketch's _Endeavor_ were already pulling away from their docks.

"I also want all Captains and Wing Commanders in my conference room here at 1500 tomorrow. I'll have my flight crew prepare for your arrivals by chopper. _Athena _out."

Several hours later, there were one hundred and fifty grey hulled US warships sailing north-northeast towards Seattle. My own _Athena_ was surrounded by a formation of eighteen cruisers and two dozen destroyers. The _Firestorm _and _Endeavor _were being followed by identical fleets. Last in the long line of ships was my six Assault Ships, escorted by my fleet's fifteen frigates. Somewhere in the depths below us lurked thirty Virginia and Seawolf class submarines. Admiral Lawrence's eighty six ships had passed us on their way into port; they had probably left by now.

I stood on the balcony a level up from the bridge, leaning on the metal rails. The sun began to dip below the horizon, splashing bright watercolors over the sky. The ships to the left of me were now nothing more than black silhouettes on the horizon, their running lights blinking regularly and their superstructures casting long shadows across the sea. The ships on my right were lit brightly, sailing broadside to the slowly disappearing sun. Somewhere over my head, a quartet of patrolling F-35's screamed across the cloudless sky. In the east, opposite the setting sun, hundreds of stars began to twinkle into being. I spotted Zoe low on the horizon to the southeast. Having special significance to me, hers was the only constellation I could remember.

As the sun descended ever so slowly, the sky's palette retreated with it, and the blanket of stars crept forward to cover more of the sky.

Suddenly, the sunlight that was shining on me from the left was blocked. You know that weird ability you get that lets you recognize someone else without looking at them? Well, it doesn't actually exist. It was just the scent of lemon soap hanging in the air that gave it away.

"Annabeth," I said.

"Hey."

She leaned on the rails next to me and watched the sky. "You're blocking my sun," I told her. I looked to my left. She was standing so her head was right between me and the orange sun, casting a beautiful glow around her face and golden hair. She looked like a goddess right then, and I realized that my best friend was more beautiful than the sunset at sea. So I turned back to watching the stars and said, "not that I mind."

"It's strange, you know," Annabeth murmured. "I don't see you for a good fourteen years, and then I come back and-"

"-feel like I still know you perfectly and completely, yes," I finished her sentence for her.

She looked over at me and smiled, the stars reflecting in her grey eyes. "See what I mean. We're still finishing each other's sentences."

I didn't really know what to do, so I just put my arm around Annabeth's shoulder and held her close to my side. As the last hint of sunlight slipped below the horizon, I realized that this was the happiest I had felt in over fourteen years. Maybe, just maybe, Thalia was right about us.

**I realize that a Satellite based missile defense system does not exist, but keep in mind that this is about 20 years in the future. Feedback is, as always, appreciated. **


	7. Chapter 7: No Nukes

_Somewhere in the Pacific, five days until USS _Athena's _arrival at Seattle_

To say that things were pretty quiet on the USS _Maine_ would be an understatement; the boomer was gliding north absolutely silently. Cruising along 120 feet under the water at a leisurely ten knots, the ballistic missile submarine was barely making a sound. From the conn, one could hear the breathing of men breathing all throughout the ship. In the sonar room adjacent to the conn, the sonar operators were leaning back in their seats, listening to their headsets and trying to pick up whatever they could on passive sonar. There was nothing, though. Not even the trio of 688 class attack submarines escorting the _Maine_ could be heard; they were all cruising equally quietly.

Sonar Technician (Submarines) Third Class James Rutz was half tempted to take his headset off. This stretch of ocean was empty; there was no doubt in his mind about it. The sub's captain, Commander Greenwich, thought otherwise, and because they were doing their best to cruise silently, arguing it was pretty much out of the question.

There was nothing that Rutz hated more than being proven wrong, so naturally he became pretty grumpy when the towed array picked up something right in the sub's baffles.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, turning up the volume and reaching for the phone. "Conn, sonar. I've got a contact, bearing one-eight-two, very faint. Single screw."

"Conn here," came the Commander's voice. "One of ours?"

"It's too feint to tell. I can't get a fix on the reactor signature... and I've lost the contact again. I'm only using passive sonar back here. The _Cheyenne_ should be holding at oh-three-five, though, and the _Hartford_ at three-two-five. It could be the _Alexandria_, sir, but she'd be farther back. I don't think we'd pick her up. Permission to switch to active sonar?"

"Denied, James. That'll give away our position in a flash. If it's not the _Alexandria, _we'll be sitting ducks," Greenwich responded.

"Ho, I'm picking up the contact again. She's now father out and bearing two-three-five. Seems to be running perpendicular to us sir. She doesn't know we're here."

"It also means that she's not one of our escorts," remarked the captain. "Spread the word; hands to battle stations. Silently!"

Whispers rippled up and down the ship. Men tip toed to their assigned stations. Amidships, men quietly loaded torpedoes into tubes. That's where things started to go wrong.

There was a loud, resounding 'thunk', and someone cursed in agony.

The Commander lunged for the phone. "Bridge to torpedo room. What happened?"

A torpedo man answered on the other end. "Torpedo room here. We dropped a fish, sir. We need a medic down here for a broken foot."

"Will do. Keep it quiet, now. Bridge out." The captain hung up the phone. "Corpsman to the torpedo room," he whispered.

At that point, the roar of both reactor and propeller increased dramatically on James Rutz's headset. He figured there was no point in using the phone now. So he just yelled to the conn.

"Conn, sonar! I've reacquired the contact, sir! They must've heard that thud; their propeller is fully engaged and they're making their way to us, current bearing two-four-one. Definitely an Akula boat, sir."

"Damn," cursed the captain. "Helm, all ahead full! Sonar, has the _Alexandria_ picked them up yet?"

"I'd say no, sir. I don't hear them back there, and if they gained any speed, we certainly would."

"Five rapid sonar pings from the towed array, James. Let's get them into this fight," ordered Greenwich.

"Pings away, sir…yup, they heard that all right. Damn, they're really pushing their screws." There was a pause. "Hostile contact's profile is reducing. They've almost got a firing angle."

"Well, we can't out run them…helm, left full rudder!" the captain ordered.

"Left full rudder, aye aye, sir."

"Right into them, sir?" protested the sonarman.

"Right into them. I want a targeting solution ASAP," Commander Greenwich said. "Where the hell is the _Alexandria_? The _Hartford_?"

"Still too far off, sir," Rutz reported. "Damnit, sir! I'm picking up two fast screws! Torpedoes in the water!"

"Flank speed," barked the captain. "All the way down on the planes."

"Commander, we don't have a lot more ocean below us-"

"All the way down on the planes," he barked again.

"All the way down on the diving planes, aye aye sir. Going to flank speed."

"Torpedoes still on target, sir," reported the sonarman as the _Maine_ dived. "Wait… one of them has lost us. It's going up instead of down!"

"Good, now let's see if we can lose the other," the captain said. "Right full rudder."

"Right full rudder aye aye, sir."

"Second torpedo is still on course…range five hundred yards…four hundred. Two hundred and fifty yards and closing, sir!"

Sonar burst after sonar burst from the torpedo lashed the _Maine_, causing men to cringe fore and aft. James Rutz tried desperately to fool the torpedo with electronic countermeasures, but it was no use.

"Range fifty yards! Brace for impact!" yelled Rutz, flipping off his headset.

The explosion shook the boat violently. Men were thrown from their feet or seats and slammed against the inner hull of the submarine. Sailors in engineering scrambled after tools and hurriedly checked reactor readings. At the conn, officers desperately clawed their way back into their seats, fearing the worst as sparks skidded across the deck and smoke from electrical fires spread into the air. Red warning lights flickered on, casting the inside of the sub into a red glow.

"Damage report!" yelled the captain, pulling himself to his feet with one hand, clutching a bleeding forehead with the other.

"A near miss, sir! I'd bet we've got a huge hole in our outer hull, sir, and one of our ballast tanks has been blown open. Seems the pressure hull is intact, though," someone reported.

"Negative, negative," someone else yelled. "We've got a leak in the torpedo room. Very small sir, but the pressure differential is going to make it bigger."

"Get men on the pumps in the torpedo room! Helm, all the way up on the planes! Shut off the engines! Vent all the tanks! Surface, surface, surface!" Commander Greenwich shouted, still nursing his forehead.

"Aye, sir."

"Torpedoes in the water!" Rutz yelled.

"God DAMN it," growled Greenwich.

"No, commander. They're not headed for us… it's the _Alexandria_, sir! Torpedoes are from the _Alexandria_ and on target towards the hostile sub."

* * *

_Aboard the _Alexandria_, seconds after the _Maine _was hit…_

"One of the torpedoes has detonated, sir," reported the sonarman. "I don't have any massive decompression noises, so I'd say that they're pretty much okay…wait, their engines have shut off. I hear hull creaking… they're surfacing, Commander."

The _Alexandria's_ captain was pissed now. Someone had crippled the ship he was supposed to be escorting. If they lost the _Maine_, it would be on his head. "They must have taken some damage."

"I have a targeting solution on the enemy sub, sir!"

"Ready one and two!" the captain ordered. "Flood the tubes. Prepare to fire!"

"Tubes flooded. Doors open. Ready to fire, sir!"

"Fire one and two," the captain ordered calmly.

"One away…two away! Both torpedoes have acquired target and are tracking!"

There was a long, tense wait as the MK-48 fish sped towards their target.

"Enemy sub is flooding a tube, sir! I've got another contact, now. Slow, single screw…they must have launched a decoy."

"Prep tubes three and four just in case," ordered the captain.

"One of the torpedoes is going for the decoy, sir. The other is still closing on the target…one thousand meters."

There was another tense moment before the sonar operator picked up a shockwave of noise.

"We have detonation, sir! Right on target! I've got hull decompression noises…enemy is neutralized. Repeat, enemy is neutralized."

"Say hi to Davey Jones for me, Ivan," the captain muttered, as cheers rippled up and down the ship. "Can we get the _Maine_ on the Gertrude?"

The communications officer tried. "No, sir. They must've lost their UQC during the battle."

"Get the _Cheyenne_ and _Hartford_, then. Tell them both to surface and prepare to assist the _Maine _if necessary. We'll do the same."

* * *

_The _Maine

"That's a hit, sir! A confirmed kill for the _Alexandria_!"

As the joyful shouts occurred up and down the boat as the news spread, Commander Greenwich let out a sigh of relief. "Seems like I owe Commander Robertson a drink or two when this is all over- can we get the _Alexandria _on the phone?"

"That's a negative, sir. Gertrude is completely fried. I'll see if I can't jury rig something, but-"

Greenwich waved his communication officer off. "Don't worry about it. We still got radio, yes?"

"Yeah."

"We're nearly on the surface now. Extend the radio mast. I'll be up on the sail if anyone needs me."

"Aye aye, sir."

As Commander Greenwich clambered up the mast, the 560 foot submarine broke the surface. Because of the assistance in ascent by the diving planes, her bow breached first, propelled a hundred feet into the air before crashing down in a maelstrom of white foam and rippling wake. Greenwich held tightly to the ladder as the bow hit the water again and the stern came bouncing up. Now the inertial and gravitational forces sent the stern into the air and the bow down into the sea, but neither the bow sunk nor the stern rose more than ten feet this time around.

Commander Greenwich resumed his climbing as the _Maine_ lightly bobbed to a stable resting level on the calm Pacific surface. Greenwich popped the hatch atop the sail and leaned aside as some water that had remained up there dripped down. It hit his first officer, following him up the ladder, on the head.

"Damn it, cap'n. Could'a warned me," swore the officer.

Greenwich grinned and hoisted himself atop the sail and onto the sub's bridge. The boat listed to port slightly, he noted as he tried to stand straight. He leaned over the port side of the sail, and looked aft. Sure enough, there was a gaping hole in the outer hull amidships. There was still a little bit of water resting in the bottom of the explosion-opened ballast tank that the hole revealed; probably the source of the slight list. He couldn't see the crack in the pressure hull through it; it was way too small to be noticed from such a distance.

"Hot damn! That's gonna keep those dry dock crews busy for awhile," said a voice next to him. Greenwich glanced to his left, where his first officer had joined him on the sail and was now in the process of gazing at the hole.

Greenwich walked over to the watertight bridge phone box and popped it open. He pulled the telephone out. "Conn, bridge. All clear skies and calm seas out here."

A black submarine broke the surface in the distance, thirty degrees off the bow. It was not quite as dramatic as the _Maine's_ surfacing; the other sub's diving planes weren't maxed. This sub had drifted up at a leisurely pace. Another surfaced in a similar fashion at two hundred seventy, and finally a third almost directly aft. This one was closer, and Greenwich could see clearly that it was a 688 boat.

"Conn, bridge," he said into the phone again. "_Hartford_, _Cheyenne_, and _Alexandria_ are on the surface."

* * *

_Some Hours Later, USS _Athena

For a child of the sea, the best way to get to sleep is to be at sea, with the waves bouncing your ship. It's very serene for me, and the sleep I get is generally dreamless. And believe me; for a half-blood, dreamless sleep is a godsend. Or gods-send, I suppose. Carriers don't bounce very much in the waves, but it's enough for me.

So I awoke from me dreamless sleep when the telephone on my bedside table rang its shrill, military ring. I swung a groggy arm over and brought it to my ear.

"Jackson."

"Admiral? This is Commander Lantean. We need you on the bridge immediately sir."

I swung slowly out of bed and started towards my closet. "What's up?"

"It's the _Maine_, sir."

That got me going like a shot of caffeine. "I'll be there in five," I said, placing the corded phone haphazardly back in its holder. I pulled the pants to my working uniform on, and was still buttoning it up as I kicked open the door to my quarters.

I sprinted down the hall just in time to trip into the service elevator. Hearing an amused chuckle, I looked up and saw Annabeth.

"Walk much, Percy?"

"Not a morning person," I grumbled as I let her help me to my feet.

"Yeah, I noticed. Did you just get called to the bridge?"

"Mm-hmm."

At this point, we were alerted to our arrival at the next level by a ding. Not our deck.

"How did you get ready so fast? Women are supposed to take _way _longer."

"Sexist," she muttered.

"Well it's _true_," I protested.

"When was the last time you saw me wasting time putting on makeup?" she demanded.

"Well, seeing as I'm generally not standing in your bathroom with you in the mornings…"

"You know what I mean," Annabeth snapped.

"Okay, fine. I've never seen you wearing makeup."

I glanced to my left, where a pair of officers were watching us amusedly. Feeling awfully embarrassed, I snapped, "what're you smilin' at?"

"Nothing, sir," one of them said, obviously trying to keep a straight face.

"Are you _sure_ the two of you aren't a couple?" the other said, having much less success at not laughing.

At that point the elevator dinged again, our deck, and Annabeth and I stormed off, both red in the face.

It only took us another minute to reach the bridge, where Commander Lantean was listening to someone intently over the radio.

"Give me a SITREP, Commander," I ordered.

"One of our Hawkeyes found the _Maine_, sir. She's surfaced with her three escorts," the Commander said. "

"Can we get the _Maine _on radio?" I asked.

"I'll see if we can get the Hawkeye to patch us through to her," the Commander responded. "Lighthouse-Four, this is command. Can you raise the _Maine _on radio?"

"Command, Lighthouse-Four here. I've got her skipper on the horn right now, sir. He says he's taken a bad torpedo hit and wants to talk to the Admiral. Please advise, over."

"The Admiral's right here. Patch me through to the _Maine,"_ Lantean said.

"_Athena_? This is Commander Greenwich of the _Maine_. Can you read me, over"

Commander Lantean handed me the radio input. "_Maine_, this is Admiral Jackson. We read you five by five. Give me a SITREP, over."

"We were attacked by a Russian Attack sub at 0600, sir. Akula type. Detected us because we dropped a torpedo when going to battle stations. The Akula's on the bottom now, sir, thanks to the _Alexandria_, but we took at hit amidships. We've got a huge whole in our outer hull, a blown ballast tank, and a leak in the torpedo room. Not to mention a whole shitload of shorted equipment."

"What about your Nuclear launch systems?" I asked.

"Launching and guidance are both completely shot, sir."

I muttered a curse. There goes Plan B. "Get yourself to a safe port somewhere. Your escorts will take you in. _Athena _out." I handed the radio back to the commander and stormed off the bridge, Annabeth in tow.

"What's wrong?" she asked, as I dashed down the stairs.

"No nukes, no Plan B," I explained, not bothering to stop. "We _desperately_ need to come up with something to buy us some time now. Find Thalia, and meet me in my quarters as soon as you can."

"Right," Annabeth said, looking at her watch. "I'll check the cafeteria."

* * *

Annabeth and Thalia barged into my quarters twenty minutes later and plopped down on the couch across from me.

"No nukes, I'm told," Thalia said.

I nodded. "No nukes."

We all sat there in silence for awhile; Thalia picking at her shoe, me staring at the coffee table, Annabeth also staring at the coffee table.

"I've got it!" Annabeth said, jumping up. "Percy, you need to use your powers to locate their fleet.."

I just shook my head. "It would take me too long to find them with my mind. Besides, even if I do, we can't exactly use that as targeting coordinates for the cruise missiles."

"Well, we know they are somewhere between Vladivostok and Seattle. That cuts down your search corridor to a line between the two. And as for the missiles, I was thinking more along the lines of you creating a typhoon right on top of them."

I laughed. "A _typhoon_? I'm not that powerful."

"Your sister can help. She's as powerful as you, right. Thalia, too."

"If you can get a storm going, I can manipulate the air and the charges," Thalia confirmed.

"Wind and lighting?" I asked.

Thalia nodded. "Yep."

"Well, a typhoon still isn't exactly going to sink any ships," I mentioned. "A big one hit Halsey's fleet in World War Two, and all he lost was three small Destroyers, and that was because they were low on fuel."

"Yes, but it will slow them down. It'll disperse the fleet, and force them to stop in order to regroup," Annabeth said.

I thought for a moment, realizing that this might just work. So I strode over to the phone on the wall. "Bridge, this is Admiral Jackson."

"Bridge here," answered the on duty communications officer.

"Get Captain Jackson sent over here from the _Poseidon_ ASAP. Tell her to come down to my quarters when she lands."

"On it, sir."

"Thanks. Jackson out."

I went back down to the sofa and sat down and closed my eyes. As I started in Seattle and began to search towards Vladivostok with my mind, I muttered, "make yourselves comfortable. This may take awhile."

* * *

Half an hour later, Claire had joined us in my quarters. I had found the Russo-Chinese fleet and had told Claire the coordinates. We were both working through profoundly uncomfortable tugging feelings in out guts as we brewed the storm. Thalia sat idly, waiting to be called in to assist in the mayhem.

* * *

_Somewhere in the North Pacific_….

Admiral Malishenko, a son of Nemesis with a Russian father, had never liked the Ocean. But the Titan he served had assigned him the task of leading the invasion fleet despite his protests. Now he found himself throwing up into a plastic bag in his, by request, windowless quarters.

He was interrupted from his… retching by the intrusion of Captain First Rank Nikolai Romanov into his quarters. The Captain became stiff as a board as he entered a military salute.

"Admiral Malishenko, sir. We need you on the bridge."

"_Da, da_," Malishenko muttered as he stumbled out of his quarters.

By the time he reached the bridge, the storm was in full swing. Thick sheets of rain were falling down from the sky, reducing visibility to a few meters, unless a fork of brilliant lighting would chance upon a silhouette in the distance. The ship was pitching and rolling violently over sixty-foot waves

"When did this happen?" demanded Malishenko.

"I don't know. It was clear skies just twenty minutes ago, sir."

"What happened, _starshina_," he barked at the Petty Officer who was supposed to be their weatherman.

"I don't know! _Nichego ne ponimaju!" _the weatherman cursed as he confusedly examined his readings. "This should not be happening!"

"Jackson," muttered the Admiral under his breath.

"Sir?"

Malishenko shook his head. "Never mind."

**Sorry it took me so long to get a new chapter up. I'll get the next up sooner; I promise. I've got…three other things I'm working on right now, besides my usual running and my actual book. So the goings are a little slow all around.**

_**Nichego ne ponimaju **_**is transliterated from**_** Ничего не понимаю.**_** Google translator will probably tell you it means "I understand nothing," but a more accurate translation would probably be "I don't understand shit." I think.**


End file.
